


Three Hundred and Fifty Three

by 200mfree



Series: The Patronus Thieves [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200mfree/pseuds/200mfree
Summary: Part one of "The Patronus Thieves" Series.This fic follows story of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin, from the end of "Goblet of Fire" to the end of "Order of the Phoenix." Tonks struggles to balance her career aspirations with her responsibilities to the Order, Remus struggles to hide his true nature behind a veneer of mildness - and both struggle to understand why prominent Death Eaters have started spending so much time in apothecaries.
Relationships: Nymphadora Tonks/Bill Weasley, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Series: The Patronus Thieves [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110842
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. The Order Reconvenes

Chapter One: The Order Reconvenes

It was June in central northern Scotland, where the sun rose early and set late. A tiny croft was nestled into a small dip, certainly nothing so grand as a "valley", between two stony peaks. The wind battered the croft with such force that the peat roof would surely have been dislodged any moment, were it not held on by magic.

At eleven pm, shortly after nightfall, a large, ferocious-looking shaggy black dog appeared at the front door of the miserable croft.

The dog leapt onto its hind legs, seized the door knocker in its mouth, and pelted the door with it. Then, he obediently dropped to sit on the doorstep.

The door cautiously creaked open, revealing a tall, thin man with a scarred face. He looked at the dog hesitantly. The dog wagged its tail, thumping the side of the croft, and the man let it inside.

The dog was immediately replaced by a man roughly the same height as the one who had opened door. Both were quite pale and thin, with high, prominent cheekbones, short beards, and greying hair. But there were few other similarities. The newcomer's grey eyes glittered with a ferocious intensity, and he had dark brown hair with few greys. The man who had answered the door had softer eyes, which seemed careworn, and a third of his light brown hair was grey.

"Sirius!" Said the man who had answered the door, almost overcome with emotion.

"Remus," remarked the newcomer. "I almost thought you didn't recognise the dog

"Can I get you anything?" Remus asked.

"I'm fine, and we don't have much time," Responded Sirius. "Voldemort is back

Remus's green eyes closed for a second. "Already."

"Yeah mate, sorry to say," Sirius reached out a hand to grasp Remus's bony shoulder. "Harry saw him."

Remus had dropped his head and was pinching the bridge of his nose. Sirius just stood there, patting his friend's shoulder.

"How can I help?" Remus asked at last.

"I've come to get you, to take you to our new headquarters." Said Sirius.

"Headquarters? Has the Order of the Phoenix risen again?" Remus's tone lightened.

Sirius looked vaguely apologetic. "Yeah, it has. And you're one of our first recruits."

****

Nymphadora Tonks galloped through one of the many low-ceilinged, twisting corridors of the Ministry of Magic's Auror department. At 22, she was the Department's youngest Auror. However, she was plainly unashamed of her relative youth, because she wore her hair in various bright, unnatural shades and usually sported multiple ear piercings. Presently, she wondered why she had been summoned to her boss's office. She mentally retraced her week for the fifth time, keenly searching for her mistake. But she came up empty-handed again. All of her paperwork had been filed on time - and regardless, Kingsley Shacklebolt was too important, too high up to concern himself with a late report. She hadn't lost her temper with any of her colleagues in weeks. She hadn't carelessly leaked any information, nor threatened to hex any lecherous muggles.

However, she was the most junior member of Shacklebolt's key taskforce, which was devoted to hunting Azkaban escapee and mass murderer Sirius Black - and the fact was that the taskforce had made no progress whatsoever. Black was still at large, and unconfirmed sightings were recorded from the Kamchatka Peninsula to Kerala, and from Islamabad to Islington. Black was everywhere and nowhere, a spirit in the wind.

Perhaps she was being scapegoated? She'd heard rumours about older, established aurors dealing with embarassing professional failures by pinning the blame on the youngest, most junior member of their team. The basic principle was to dredge up some errors that the baby auror had made - and baby aurors always made some - exaggerate them and overstate their consequences and allege that but for these mistakes, the mission would have succeeded. It was even rumoured that some senior aurors never issued written instructions - only ever instructing their staff via howlers and talking patronuses. The idea behind never issuing written instructions was that if the boss simply forgot to ask his juniors to take a particular vital step, he could always deny having forgotten to do it and allege that the junior just failed to comply with his instruction. The determination of fault would come down to the junior's word ("I was never told to do this task") against the senior's ("I told her to do a task, and she must have forgotten") - and few disciplinary boards would find in the former's favour.

Tonks shook herself. Shacklebolt always issued her clear, written instructions. He seemed honest - far more honest than most senior aurors - and fair. He almost certainly wasn't planning to blame the failure of the mission to capture Black on one of her old admin mistakes. Concerned that her paranoia suggested a guilty conscience, she decided to feign cheerful ignorance. But to her surprise, Shacklebolt wasn't in his grand, marble-floored office. Instead, the room was occupied by none other than Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody, Mad Eye had been her mentor throughout her auror training - a grizzled, retired eccentric who still did the odd bit of contract work for the auror office. 

"Wotcher, Mad Eye!" She greeted her old mentor enthusiastically.

"Do you trust me?" He returned. This was unexpected, and alarming.

"Apart from fashion advice, yeah"

"Would you follow me into danger?"

Tonks frowned. "Mad-eye, what happened?"

"Just answer the question!" Mad-eye growled.

There was a pause.

"No. Not unless you explain," Tonks said nervously.

Mad eye cackled, surprising her and prompting her to ask if he was feeling alright. 

Mad eye kept cackling. "That's the spirit, Tonks!"

Tonks continued to stare at him.

"How do you feel about Voldemort's return?" The ancient, craggy wizard asked.

"I want to believe it is not true, Mad-eye," Tonks said flatly.

Mad eye gave the ghost of a genuine smile. "Albus Dumbledore is setting up a militia to fight Voldemort," he said at last.

Tonks looked at him sideways. "That's reassuring, but unless I am-"

"We want to bring you on board. We need young, skilled fighters like you," Moody said gruffly.

Tonks stood, as if dazed, for a moment. She had often worried that the great Mad-Eye Moody viewed her as a liability. Clearly he did not, for he was still regarding her intensely.

"Will you join us?" Mad Eye's voice contained a note of fearful hope that she had never heard before.

"Absolutely!" Tonks said, with conviction.


	2. Old Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks introduces herself to the Order. The introduction does not go entirely as planned.
> 
> She laughed then, a sound that filled the library, echoing off the cursed walls. But her laugh was too big for just the library and it burst out, exuberantly rattling down the halls.

Chapter Two - Old Habits

On the 27th of June, as instructed, Tonks met Mad Eye near the Emirates Stadium in Islington. From there, they walked through streets of neat, well-maintained muggle terraces and trendy little bars.

"We're here," Mad Eye said gruffly. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Tonks looked at the street. Number twelve was the only house missing. "Good camouflage, Mad Eye. You've outdone yourself."

But he handed her a parchment, bearing the words 'the headquarters of the order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'

Suddenly, numbers eleven and thirteen sprang apart, and number twelve appeared between them. Mad Eye started up the steps up toward a big, imposing-looking black front door, motioning for her to follow him. He removed his wand and waved it at the door, which creaked and clicked before slowly swinging open.

"Is that a fidelius, Mad Eye?" She stuttered wonderingly, following him across the threshold. "This must be serious."

But her right foot connected with something heavy and she staggered, floundering to stay upright. Mad Eye swore, and then-

"FILTH! BLOOD TRAITOR! HALFBLOOD, SUBHUMAN FREAK!"

Tonks drew her wand and trained it in the direction of the shrieking. The shrieker was an immensely ugly old woman - and apparently she was impervious to stunning spells.

Mad Eye furiously gestured at her to lower her wand. No sooner had she done so than a tall man with longish dark hair, gleaming grey eyes and a razor sharp cheekbones came charging into view. He seized a window curtain, and Tonks realised that the window was in fact a portrait, and the shrieking woman was a mere depiction.

A second later, she recognised the man as her quarry and raised her wand a second time, stunning him quickly.

"NYMPHADORA!" Thundered Mad Eye. "Lower. Your. Wand."

"That's Sirius Black!" She exclaimed indignantly, charming magic-proof handcuffs onto the unconscious man.

"Lower your wand or I'll stun you myself," responded Mad Eye.

Shock and betrayal flittered across her pale, pointed face. "You're in league with him! I trusted you!"

"He's innocent," said Mad Eye.

At that moment, a tall, thin man dressed in a tatty old brown jumper appeared with a plump, red-haired woman in tow. Tonks recognised her as the mother of one of her school friends.

"We need to get him upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He can sleep off the worst of that curse, and then I'll renervate him," said the tall man quietly.

—

"You really should have told her, Mad Eye," said the tall, thin man reproachfully.

Tonks was sitting in the kitchen of number 12, Grimmauld Place, in equal parts shocked and embarrassed.

"I was about to," Mad Eye muttered. She could see he was embarrassed, too. 'As he should be' she thought. Mad Eye knew that Tonks had been hunting the much-feared Sirius Black for almost a year. He must have known that she was liable to react like that, and the whole situation could have been avoided if he'd just told her.

The tall thin man turned to her, offering his hand for her to shake. "I'm Remus Lupin, Sirius Black's oldest friend."

She took it awkwardly. "Tonks, one of Mad Eye's trainee aurors. Sorry about…"

An awkward silence hung in the air for a second.

"We don't blame you, dear," the red-haired woman cut in. "You were only doing what you thought was best."

Tonks smiled at her gratefully. "Are you Charlie and Bill Weasley's mum?"

"Oh! You know Charlie and Bill! How lovely. Yes, I'm Molly. Molly Weasley," she beamed.

"It was a good stunner," Mad Eye said brightly.

Remus Lupin frowned. "It was, but he's had worse."

"So this is Dumbledore's militia?" Tonks asked uncertainly.

"Part of it. We've also got Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was meant to meet us at work this morning, but apparently something urgent came up. I think that's why I forgot to tell you about Sirius," said Mad Eye.

Molly Weasley's mouth twitched with something resembling amusement. "Bill is staying here too, for the week. He should be upstairs, in the library, dealing with the doxies."

Tonks leapt to her feet, causing Molly and Remus to simultaneously "sssssh!" her.

"This house belongs to Sirius Black, by the way," said Remus. "His relatives were not exactly nice people - they owned a lot of dark artefacts, many of which remain in the house. The house stood abandoned for ten years, and bogarts have taken up residence in the wardrobes and cupboards. We are unable to silence or remove the portrait of Sirius's mother, so do try to be quiet." 

"Can I go and see Bill?" Tonks asked quietly.

Molly nodded, and offered to take her up to the library.

—

"Wotcher, Bill."

That angular face turned upwards to greet her, the loop of brilliant red hair at the nape of this neck twitching slightly. For a moment, he looked confused, before -

"NYMPHADORA!" Roared the handsome, red-haired man. So much for not waking the shrieking portrait.

She laughed then, a sound that filled the library, echoing off the cursed walls. But her laugh was too big for just the library and it burst out, exuberantly rattling down the halls.

Bill was every bit as handsome as he had been in Egypt, where they'd had a memorable affair. His strong jaw, high cheekbones and air of practiced insouciance combined to make him beautiful, bold and dashing. Looking at him, Tonks felt a lazy tug in her lower abdomen.

"I haven't seen you in years!" He exclaimed, his pale, freckled cheeks turning scarlet.

"Got a bit busy, what with auror training," she grinned ruefully.

"Yes, I hear congratulations are in order," said the handsome wizard. "Nymphadora Tonks, a fully-fledged auror!"

"Yep, only tripped over the podium twice on my way out," she chuckled again, turning her hair from pink to fire-engine red. "And you're a curse-breaker."

He nodded. "I expect we'll have much to talk about. Battle stories, brilliant disguises and falling over podiums."

"Well, I just stunned and handcuffed Sirius Black. I was going to bring him in, and probably get myself promoted or commended, or something," she informed her former flame.

He gaped at her. "No one told you he was innocent?"

"Slipped Mad Eye's mind, for all his talk about vigilance he must be getting old. Hey, did you actually charm six sphinxes?" she asked, eager to change the subject.

"Yes! It's surprisingly easy, actually. Charlie gave me a hint. All you have to do is verbally ponder their question, then hit them with a brain freeze charm while they're distracted." He said, baldly. "Did you actually arrest Simeon Selwyn?"

It was her turn to blush. "Yep, got him with the full body-bind as he was trying to dispose of a potion book. I'd tracked him for months, waiting for him to do something stupid and incriminating. And there he was, in broad daylight, 'Dark Potioneering' in hand and marked at the intestine-rotting page."

Bill smirked. "You always had a way of finding trouble. Remember when you got detention for an entire term for walloping Dougal MacBoon?"

She grimaced. "I was seventeen and stupid. And obsessed with him, couldn't believe he dumped me for no reason! I'm so ashamed of that morning."

"He deserved it, he deserved it ten times over," said Bill, fiercely.

"I'm still embarrassed!" She said. "I really regret it."

"Nonsense," countered Bill. "I was so proud when I heard."

She allowed herself another laugh. "It was kind of funny, I suppose." Her hand flew up and her fingers combed her short, purple hair.

"It was, and it was JUSTIFIED," Insisted Bill. "He was an utter tosser. Dumping you in public, laughing at your pain and pretending that he didn't understand why you were hurt."

For a moment, they stood still, carefully eyeing each other.

"Anyway," she said, slightly flustered. "Tell me about them pyramid hexes."

"Honestly, Tonks, they're the worst," he confided. "They work by reminding you of all your worst decisions, and exaggerating your inadequacies."

She gave him a flirty smile. "No wonder you didn't get much trouble from them."

He let his head lol back, regarding the pale, purple-haired witch I front of him. "I've made some awful decisions, Nymphie."

She winced. "Ah, call me Tonks. 'Nymphie' might lead to some awkward questions."

He held his hands up apologetically, his face turning pink again with the sting of rejection.

With two hurried steps, she closed the distance between them. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, giving a jaunty wink. "It's OK Bill. I know that old habits die hard."


	3. Blood and Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks turned; from the shadowy depths of the nearest cell, hurtling toward the bars, was a face that was at once heart-wrenchingly familiar and utterly foreign. Bone-white hands, notched with scars and bruises - all knuckles, tendons, purple hollows and bulging blue veins - seized the bars. Their owner's face was unnaturally pale, gaunt, skull-like and sick-looking. Her hideously matted black hair fell to her waist. It was as though Tonks's mother had died, been buried, and was then dug up.

Chapter Three - Blood and Potions

Tonks was not looking forward to her second meeting with Sirius Black, which was precisely why she had decided to return to Grimmauld place earlier than strictly necessary and get the awkward exchange over and done with as soon as possible. She preferred the "rip it off" approach.

The following Friday she apparated to the top step of Grimmauld Place, silently cast the unlocking code, and crossed the threshold carefully. The gas lamps in the hallway were already on, allowing her to see the item that she'd fatefully fallen over on her first visit - it was a particularly hideous umbrella stand, made of a hollowed-out troll's leg. She grimaced. How very Black Family.

She stole down the hallway, crept down the stone stairs leading to the basement, and entered the kitchen without knocking into anything. She counted that as a small victory.

Sirius Black was sitting in the kitchen with Remus and a youngish woman who Tonks didn't recognise. Fate must also have approved of the "rip it off" approach, she thought.

"I won't stun you," she said awkwardly. "I'm Tonks, don't think we properly met last time."

"You're my cousin," he said blankly. "Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora."

"Sirius, please, just Tonks," she told him. "I can't stand that name."

Remus winced and turned slightly pink, but Tonks didn't know why.

"Did you really stupefy him?" The other woman asked eagerly. She was younger than Remus and Sirius, but older than Tonks, with dark hair and a pale, slightly flushed face. "I'm Hestia, by the way."

"Absolutely, she did," Sirius said ruefully. "I was in bed all day. Not that I've got much else to do."

"Sorry," Tonks frowned. "I really didn't know that we were meeting you. I thought you'd broken in. I was gonna bring you in and get myself promoted. No one would be able to say that I was young and silly if I nabbed Sirius Black." She hoped the last bit sounded humorously self-deprecating, rather than petulant.

This prompted a hollow laugh from the escapee. "I've only evaded capture for so long because Kingsley's not trying."

The kitchen really was very large, Tonks thought, noticing her surroundings for the first time. There was an enormous stone fireplace, crowned with cast iron pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Tonks estimated that the kitchen table was large enough to seat around twenty five people.

"Well," she said awkwardly. "I'm glad you've recovered from the stunner."

"It was a very good one," said Remus mildly. "Actually, I was rather tempted to leave the handcuffs on him, as a surprise. Alastor had to remove them - they really are immune to most spells."

Sirius grimaced, a blank, faraway look stealing across his aristocratically handsome features. "Azkaban is the worst place in the entire world, and I will die a hundred painful deaths before I'll let myself be taken back."

*******  
After meeting Sirius properly, Tonks had drifted out into the hallway, vaguely hoping to catch Bill a second time. She saw a doorway leading from the hall into an enormous, long, thin room sporting row upon row of monogramed Black Family china and glassware. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she turned to enter it.

"Nymphadora." Remus called out to her softly, almost hesitantly.

"Please, it's Tonks," she said, spinning around and returning to the hallway.

"I thought I ought to apologise," said the older man. "I didn't realise, when I described Sirius's relatives as "not nice people," that you were, in fact, related to him. I was only really thinking of Sirius's mother, Walpurga, not anyone else."

"It's OK, they're tossers," she said dismissively.

"We're on duty together on Sunday," Remus said briskly. "We're tailing Corban Yaxley. I just thought I'd clear all that up beforehand."

This was the first time she had properly looked at her outlaw cousin's best friend. His height was the only thing she'd really noticed about him during her last visit to Grimmauld Place - distracted as she was by coming face to face with the escaped prisoner she'd been hunting for the best part of a year. On this occasion, her attention was drawn first to the three thin, pinkish scars that cut across his cheek. She also noticed that he had a sparse, shortish beard, frown lines, and creases around his greenish-hazel eyes. He would have been handsome once, in a bookish kind of way. His clothes were old and looked as though they'd been mended many times. She felt a twist of sympathy for this friend of Sirius. He clearly hadn't been through Azkaban - she'd already have known his name and face if he had - but something unenviable had definitely happened to him.

"I didn't even notice," she told him truthfully. "And most of the Blacks aren't nice people, so…you were right."

He brightened slightly. "I'm glad that you weren't upset. Now, I believe some of the Weasley family are upstairs, on the fourth floor, decontaminating bedrooms. I thought you might want to say hello?"

Bill was one of the many Weasleys busily decontaminating the fourth floor. This surprised her, because she thought this task would be left to his younger siblings, freeing him up to do more important tasks for the Order.

"N-Tonks!" He exclaimed cheerfully. "Come to help us blast away boggarts? Unfortunately, Ron and Ginny need a responsible adult present for this job, because they aren't allowed to do magic outside of school."

At that, two other pale, freckled, red-heads emerged. One was a small, delicate-looking girl of about fourteen. The other was a tall, awkward-looking boy, who looked around sixteen.

"Tonks," said Bill. "Meet my siblings: Ron and Ginny."

Tonks gave them what she hoped was a sparkly, cheeky smile and held out her right hand. As she couldn't see any terrifying apparitions, she assumed the Boggart - or boggarts - had not yet been found. Boggarts were ghouls, which lived in dark corners and assumed the shape of whatever the person nearest to them feared the most. It had been six months since she had last faced a boggart. Since then, she'd experienced a truly terrifying incident at work, and she had a sneaking suspicion it had changed the form that her boggart would take.

"Oh, I see how it is! Bill Weasley, would you like me to vanish the boggart for you, so that you can hit the town?" She affected a tone of mock outrage.

"I'm pretty confident Tonks the auror can handle a boggart," Bill snorted. "But no. You're a guest, and that would be bad manners."

Inwardly, she shook herself. She was likely to come face-to-face with a boggart, in front of Bill. A boggart was elementary stuff. It would be utterly humiliating if she faltered, even for a second. So, before a Boggart was found, she had to prepare for the worst. The key spell for banishing a boggart involved transforming it into an amusing version of the shape that it had assumed. But supposing her boggart had changed its form into what she thought it might now resemble - how on earth she make that funny?

But she needn't have worried. Suddenly, there was a yell. An almighty serpent appeared, thrashing on the floor of the tiny bedroom. Bill waved his wand at the serpent, and it transformed into a giant sock puppet.

Before she could step up to the plate, there was a loud CRACK and two more Weasleys apparated into the room, appearing from nowhere.

"Look, George, it's a boggart!" Yelled one of the new Weasleys.

He bounded forwards and the sock-puppet boggart morphed into a tall, skeletally thin woman with a pale face and long, black hair. Momentarily, Tonks was reminded of how she suspected her own Boggart might now present, but then - "Ridikulus!" Snapped the Weasley, and the boggart banshee - now clutching a thermometer between its lips and wearing a woolly hat - was banished out of the window.

"Nice work, Weasleys," said Tonks. "That was a speedy boggart-dispatching."

Bill introduced her to the two newcomers - his younger identical twin bothers, Fred and George - who had just come of age and could thus assume the role of "responsible adult" in his place.

"Responsible adult!" Cried one of the twins, rubbing his hands together with mirth. "That'll be a first!"

"'Tis a tremendous honour!" Shrieked the other twin, mockingly.

Tonks decided that she quite liked Bill's younger, identical twin brothers. She resolved to hang out with them in future.

"Your next job is removing the chizpurfles, which doesn't require magic. Can you two do that?" Bill directed this question at Ron and Ginny, who both nodded emphatically.

"Eugh!" Tonks muttered. "Chizpurfles? The great magic flea? Bit of a step down from sphinxes, isn't it?"

Chizpurfles really were disgusting - slightly larger than a flea, but resembling a crab, and attracted to magic.

"So the grown ups can go," said Bill, ignoring Tonks's musings. "Tonks - pub, pint, catch-up?"  
For a second, Tonks was torn between her desire to flirt with Bill, and her interest in chatting two his mischievous twin brothers. "Absolutely - twins?"

"We can't," the twins said in unison.

One twin then took over: "This pair need a responsible adult! Just in case there's another boggart." He said mock-indignantly, gesturing at his younger brother and sister.

"Does that mean I can go, Fred?" Asked the other twin.

*******  
In the end, Bill and Tonks went to a nearby muggle pub alone, on the understanding that Fred and George would join them later.

"Alright, tell me about your scariest auror experience," Bill tucked himself into their booth, setting down two beers.

Tonks let out a shaky breath. "Oh wow, there's a bit of choice. A few might revolve around Azkaban, to be honest."

Her companion looked startled. "Azkaban! But…but isn't everyone…locked up? There have been no serious breakout threats - at least as far as the general public is told. Apart from…our friend."

Tonks grimaced. "The dementors make you skittish. I'm used to prisoners screaming at me. When it happens in the holding cells beneath the ministry, it only creeps me out a bit - but it Azkaban, the exact same thing is terrifying."

She'd had cause to go to Azkaban prison several times before. The place always made her incredibly jumpy. It was a terrible, desolate prison on an island in the North Sea. Many of its inmates were the evilest, most dangerous wizards (and a handful of witches) prosecuted in Britain. Worse still, it was guarded by dementors - enormous, terrible cloaked wraiths whose mere presence induced fear, misery and loathing.

On one occasion she was shadowing a senior auror, who was attending the prison to talk to a lifer about a planned werewolf uprising. The lifer - a werewolf himself - was being held in the top security unit. They met him in his cell, where they cast a silencing charm to enclose the cell in a private, noise-proof bubble. Specifically, she cast the silencing charm and her boss checked it, confirming that it was acceptable. Her boss introduced her to the prisoner as "Nymphadora Tonks." Interviewing the terrible old wolf-man, with bloodshot eyes and claws for hands, did nothing to settle Tonks's nerves.

After the interview, they left his cell and started back down the long tunnel, passing some of the other top security cells. Azkaban inmates reached through the bars of their cells, to grab at passing aurors. This was something she had been told to expect. "Just stay in the middle of the corridor, and no one will be able to touch you," her boss had advised. The bars on either side of the corridor rattled. That seemed normal.

And then suddenly, a harsh female voice broke through the din: "Tonks! I know that name!"

Tonks had no idea how the prisoner had even heard 'that name', much less had the chance to ponder it. Tonks turned; from the shadowy depths of the nearest cell, hurtling toward the bars, was a face that was at once heart-wrenchingly familiar and utterly foreign. Bone-white hands, notched with scars and bruises - all knuckles, tendons, purple hollows and bulging blue veins - seized the bars. Their owner's face was unnaturally pale, gaunt, skull-like and sick-looking. Her hideously matted black hair fell to her waist. It was as though Tonks's mother had died, been buried, and was then dug up. Time seemed to stand still as Tonks froze, staring into the dead-looking eyes of her mother's sister, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"My niece." Lestrange said, flatly. Her voice rose from a hoarse whisper to a cacophonous shriek, as she said: "The Dark Lord will return! When he does, he will come for me. And then I will come for you - and your parents. I have had so much time to imagine all the things that I could do to the Tonkses."

Tonks's boss turned on his heel, strode back to her and promptly stunned the female prisoner. The disturbance attracted several dementors. She was already rattled, but when their icy presence stole over her, it took all of her resolve to abide by the Ministry's rule of never attacking an Azkaban dementor.

Later, her boss had been at a loss to explain how Bellatrix - filthy, starving, insane, weakened by constant dementor presence and deprived of a wand - had penetrated the silencing charm. "I checked it myself," he kept saying. He assured her that Bellatrix's own private dementor guard would be doubled, saying: "we will station them inside the bitch's cell, if we have to."

After a moment's hesitation, and a quick silencing charm around their booth, Tonks told Bill the Bellatrix story. He was startled.

"So…was there an issue with your silencing charm? Should I be worried that the muggles can hear us now?" He asked, hoping his tone sounded light and teasing.

"No!" She exclaimed.

"Only, I've heard that everyone's magic suffers in Azkaban," Bill said gently. "The place drains everyone. Dad had to go to Azkaban once. I was in Egypt at the time, and the twins sent me an owl. They're never serious, everything's a huge joke to them, and they were only fourteen at the time. But they were seriously worried about dad - apparently he came back shivering and shaking. Couldn't cast a simple 'reparo' for days."

"You get used to it," Said Tonks, tightly. "I was worse the first time I went out. No, this silencing charm actually was fine. No one else heard what we were saying."

"So Bellatrix broke it, without a wand? And after ten years in Azkaban, really?" Bill asked sceptically.

"She'd been there for over twelve years - and yes, I'm sure she did. I'm sure she can do a lot more," said Tonks grimly. The appearance of Bill's twin brothers snapped Tonks out of her unpleasant memory.

Work kept Tonks so busy that she scarcely had time to ponder either her renewed friendship with Bill, or her Order mission on Sunday.

The day dawned bright and still - it was going to be a hot one. She considered the nature of her mission - tailing a suspected death eater - and decided that she probably wouldn't be able to hide from the sun in a charmed shade bubble. With a flick of her wand she applied a sunscreen charm to her pale face and most of her upper body. She dressed in faded blue jeans and a shimmering, silvery-purple spaghetti-strap top. In consideration of weather forecast, she charmed her top to hide sweat marks (definitely her all-time favourite vanity spell). Then, she screwed up her face thoughtfully. A moment later, her shoulder-length brown hair was a very short pixie crop - all the better to keep her cool in the heat. She would have liked to turn it violet, but felt that shade stood out too much for a tracking mission.

As arranged, she met her partner - Sirius's friend, Remus - at Grimmauld Place. She passed through the hallway without knocking anything over (again!) and made her way down to the basement kitchen. The kitchen door was ajar, and Sirius and Remus appeared deep in conversation. She hesitated for a moment.

"Sirius, Dumbledore's instructions were quite clear," said Remus.

"Thanks, Remus, I recall what Dumbledore said. I'm just telling you, Harry doesn't like being told to sit tight and not worry his pretty head. And I know exactly how he feels," Sirius said coldly.

Tonks hurriedly knocked on the door, alerting them to her presence before she could be caught spying. Both men looked up at her.

"Tonks! You made it past my mother," Sirius had adopted an overly cheerful tone, which confirmed Tonks's suspicion that he and Remus had been arguing. "What adventure do you two have planned?"

"It's scarcely an adventure, Sirius," said Remus. We are only tailing Corban Yaxley while he shops in Knockturn Alley."

"I think you need a guard dog," said Sirius.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Remus, sharply.

Sirius looked up at Tonks, through his enviably dark lashes. "Yaxleys are related to the Blacks. You've got the Blacks' eyes. You might want to do…something…about it."

Remus looked confused.

"Right," Tonks said. Then, hoping to build a bridge: "good idea, Sirius."

She screwed up her face and her heavily-lidded, dark eyes disappeared and were replaced by delicately rounded blue ones. Grimacing, she turned her attention to her eyelashes and eyebrows, morphing them shorter, sparser and paler. Then, she added lots more freckles, and turned her brown pixie crop golden blonde.

"You're a metamorphmagus!" Exclaimed Remus. "Sirius, why didn't you tell me your cousin could do that?"

"I'm surprised he knew," said Tonks happily.

But Sirius's brief spell of feigned cheerfulness appeared to be over, and the dark frown and cold tone returned: "Your mother was my favourite cousin - not that there's much competition for that title. I knew you when you were a small child, with hair that changed colour ten times a day. But of course, she only knows me as the traitorous bastard who got the Potters killed."

Their intelligence (courtesy of Mundungus, a distinctly dodgy low-level crook) was that Yaxley would be coming to Knockturn Alley "by midday" and heading first to "an apothecary." Ten AM found Tonks and Remus in position at that most famous of Wizarding haunts, the Leaky Cauldron.

The bartender, Tom, was known to almost every London-based witch and wizard. He greeted Remus fondly, but did not recognise the well-disguised Tonks.

"I'm afraid you're a bit early for lunch, but I can do you some pickles and ale," Tom told them.

"Thanks, Tom," Remus replied smoothly. "But we've got a busy day ahead. Perhaps something nonalcoholic, like gillywater?"

She noticed that Tom was looking expectantly at her.

Remus had clearly noticed this, too. "This is my cousin-" he began.

"Tara," she smiled casually up at Tom, offering him her hand to shake. "Remus, shall we grab a table?"

It wasn't really a question, because she was already moving toward a table near the back of the pub. She took the chair with its back to the wall, facing the door, leaving him to sit in the one opposite her. She watched the door; while Yaxley might recognise Remus, he wouldn't recognise her.

"Why are we sitting here?" Remus asked mildly.

"Mightn't Yaxley recognise your face?" She asked, trying her best not to sound commanding.  
"It's not likely, but I suppose it's possible," he conceded. "I'm not exactly a frequent guest at high society events."

She decided it was time for a nice, normal conversation. Seeing as they were likely to be following a suspected death eater into an apothecary, she thought potion-brewing was a good icebreaking topic. If anyone overheard them talking about potions, and later saw them in an apothecary, they'd hardly be suspicious.

"Are you any good at potions?" She asked him.

He looked momentarily taken aback, but then his frown vanished and he smiled politely. "Not really, I'm afraid. Actually, I'm terrible."

It was her turn to look surprised. "Oh. I thought that, well.." She trailed off.  
"Well, what?" He asked.

"You just look studious," she blurted out. "You know - clever, like. Like you'd be good at that sort of thing."

Tom appeared, pickles and gillywaters in hand. "What sort of thing?" He asked, with a hoarse chuckle. "Remus is good at everything!"

"Not potions, unfortunately," Remus said by way of an explanation.

"Hmmmph," said Tom, plonking their gillywaters down on the table. "I suppose that would be particularly useful for you, given - given…the…Yes." And off he stomped.

Tonks raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Regrettably, I never had the patience. But Tom's right, it is a useful skill," Remus said, smiling properly again. "I take it you have some interest in that area?"

She considered her answer for a second. She'd done very well in potions at school - you had to, in order to become an auror. Top grades in final year potions was a prerequisite. Moreover, she had a real knack for potions; her colleagues often prevailed upon her for assistance in this area, saying that her potion-brewing was second only to her unique ability to disguise her appearance.

However, she knew she wasn't getting off to a brilliant start with Remus - she'd bossed him through her "introduction" to Tom and then marched him over to the back of the pub. She didn't want him to think that she'd asked about potions as an excuse to brag.

"Yes," she said at last, truthfully. "As long as I don't trip over and spill my ingredients, burn myself on my cauldron fire, or send my first test draught flying. I've had to develop systems and habits - sometimes I use a muffling charm to minimise distractions. And sometimes I just have to fork out for another pinch of Powdered Root of Asphodel."

He laughed.

"I'm dead clumsy - that's why…you know, the hallway," she muttered. He caught her eye. He knew that she meant her first meeting with Sirius - and his mother's shrieking portrait.

They chatted fairly amicably after that - she discovered that he had travelled extensively when he was only a little older than her, but he wouldn't say much about that. He also confirmed her suspicion that he was a bookworm. He discovered that she was particularly talented at maths, and her interests included loud music and flying broomsticks.

Suddenly a tall, broad-shouldered man with a square jaw and neatly plaited blond hair entered the pub. "Don't look round, but that's our cue," she said, her voice suddenly serious and soft again.

"Is he stopping?" Remus asked.

"Nope," she said, as the man ducked out the back of the pub. "I'll follow him - he won't recognise me - and you can settle up here?"

He nodded briskly, and she disappeared.

Striding down Diagon Alley, she quickly caught up to Yaxley - that blond plait down his back was a helpful identifier, she thought, and if she were Voldemort she would require that all of her followers changed hairstyle at least monthly. To her surprise, his first stop was the Magical Menagerie, where witches and wizards (and truth be told, mostly children) went to buy their pets.

She followed him in to the shop. It was too small for her liking, and she worried he'd recognise her from the Leaky Cauldron. Fortunately, as she opened the door to enter the shop, two enormous cats (or perhaps they were kneazles?) began hissing and howling at each other, covering the noise made by the bell on the door, and by her tripping slightly on the doormat. She dearly wanted to morph her hair longer, to cover her face, but knew she couldn't risk it while the proprietress was facing her. Metamorphmagi were rare in the wizarding world, and if the woman saw her morph she'd squeak in excitement and draw Yaxley's attention to Tonks.

"Is this the strongest Anthelmintic you have?" Yaxley asked tersely.

Tonks couldn't see or hear the proprietress, but she must have admitted it was, because Yaxley said: "I can only hope Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons have something more potent - yes, yes I'll take the anti-tick tonic."

Yaxley then left the pet shop smartly. After pretending to admire some cat-kneazles, Tonks followed, mentally kicking herself for trailing perhaps a little too closely behind her mark.

Yaxley's next stop was Mulpepper's Apothecary. It was a large shop on the corner of Knockturn and Diagon Alleys, and consequently had two addresses. Tonks was pleased by this development - an apothecary was the first place Mundungus said that Yaxley would go, and Remus would surely proceed to the largest and best-known apothecary without delay.

Inside Mulpepper's, Yaxley began a noisy argument with Mr Mulpepper himself. Tonks had to admit that privately, she sided with Yaxley - Mulpepper's powdered moonstone price hike was excessive.

She heard a slight muttering behind her, and turned to see Remus pretending to inspect a box of leeches. She faced the back of Yaxley's head, pretending to consider some Clabbert pustules. Remus stood beside her, facing the other way. The purpose of this was to obscure at least half of their conversation from any lipreader who may be present - and hopefully, to obscure the fact that they were conversing at all.

"Straight here?" He asked.

"Not quite." she murmured.

"Where first?"

"Not here," she breathed, as quietly as she could. She hoped he'd heard. Then, raising her voice to a soft whisper: "disappointingly small range of venoms and toxins here."

"Ah. Perhaps Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons will have better stock. Shall I go ahead?" It wasn't really a question.

She was pleased that he'd caught on to her meaning so quickly: "Yep."

Remus left again, but Yaxley took longer than expected. Seemingly, he really was shopping for some fairly typical potion ingredients - an antidote to uncommon poisons, dragon's liver, stewed mandrake and bubotuber puss. Tonks noted that he eschewed the powdered moonstone.

Yaxley left through the opposite door to the one through which he - and Tonks - had entered. She smiled pleasantly at Mr Mulpepper, hurriedly bought 2 chizpurfle fangs (which she really did need) so as not to arouse suspicion, and followed Yaxley into Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley was something of a misnomer - it was really a patchwork of narrow, dark, dusty alleys and laneways, crammed full with tiny little old shops. Tonks secretly rather liked Knockturn Alley, despite (or perhaps because of) its rather sinister reputation. Throughout Tonks's childhood (in practice, until she had left home), Knockturn Alley was strictly off limits. Like most British witches, she and her mother made frequent trips to the neighbouring Diagon Alley, in order to buy school and household supplies. But her mother became enraged if she caught Tonks so much as glancing down the dark, winding beckoning, lanes. Tonks was an adult now, of course - but if she was honest with herself, twenty two was just close enough to seventeen that things forbidden to children still held a perverse allure. Once again, the narrow, dark, winding lanes beckoned. She would have liked to linger, and resolved to return on one of her days off.

As she looked toward the entrance to Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons, she noticed that Remus appeared to have no such desire to wander Knockturn Alley. He was glancing warily about himself from time to time and keeping his eyes trained downwards.

Shyverwretch's was too small for the trick they'd used at Mulpepper's, so Tonks waited outside this time and pretended to be browsing cursed candles. She narrowly avoided the attentions of a woman who looked remarkably like a Hag. A moment later, Yaxley departed again.

This time, they followed Yaxley to Borgin and Burkes. In truth, they were surprised that it had taken him so long to visit the infamous antiques shop. For the past fourteen years, those of Voldemort's supporters who hadn't been sent to Azkaban upon his defeat had frequently used Borgin and Burkes as a place to hurriedly offload some of their darkest artefacts. Tonks strongly suspected that some fantastic - if sinister - bargains were to be had here, if one was prepared to shoulder the risk of dealing with such characters.

Tonks briefly debated ducking out of sight to alter her appearance once again, just in case Yaxley had noticed her trailing after him. However, if he'd already noticed her and Remus, then her replacement by a different woman might trigger his suspicion. As far as she knew, none of the Death Eaters were aware that she had been recruited to the Order, much less that she was a metamorphmagus. She wanted to keep her best weapon secret. However, a moment later, Yaxley emerged from Borgin and Burkes, tailed (at a good distance, Tonks noted approvingly) by Remus. Yaxley left Knockturn Alley at a considerable pace, turning into Diagon Alley and returning to the leaky cauldron before disappearing into thin air. He had disapparated. Tonks hissed in frustration, but Remus assured her that their mark had probably just returned home.

Tonks and Remus had not been able to discuss their observations while out on their mission, so as soon as they crossed the threshold of Grimmauld place (her tripping over the troll leg umbrella stand in the process, rousing Mrs Black's portrait from its slumber and sending Sirius charging down the stairs - "Oh god, Sirius, Remus, I'm sorry!" /"THE HALF BREED! THE FREAK!" / "Shut UP, you bitch, SHUT UP - not you, Tonks! Don't stun me!") they made for the kitchen.

Sirius disappeared upstairs again, so she and Remus both removed their Order Journals and began discussing their assignment.

"Sirius told me that Emmeline Vance assured him that Yaxley has returned home," Remus answered her unasked question. "Which shop did he visit first?"

"It was funny," Tonks said. "He went to a pet shop first and bought anti-tick tonic. He also wanted 'an Ant-hel-min-tic' - I have no idea what that is, by the way - but he didn't get one. because apparently they were all too weak."

"It expels parasitic worms," Remus said, as Tonks made a disgusted face. "What did he purchase at Mulpepper's?"

"An antidote to uncommon poisons, dragon's liver, stewed mandrake and bubotuber puss," she recited. "Those ingredients are common in loads of potions, of varying difficulty."

"Yaxley certainly didn't buy any animal dewormers at Shyverwretch's. However, he did buy two bottles of Syrup of Hellebore," said Remus, sounding slightly troubled. "It's highly poisonous - you could kill at least thirty people with two bottles of the stuff. It would be an extraordinarily expensive way to do it, though."

"What about Borgin's?" Asked Tonks. Borgin and Burkes was the big one, the shop they were supposed to watch especially keenly.

"He didn't get anything," Remus said.

"Maybe he really was just on a shopping trip? You know, for his own personal supplies? Maybe he's adopted a stray kneazle or something - and he also wants to brew some potions?" There was a clear note of disbelief in Tonks's voice.

"I don't think Yaxley shares your interest in advanced potion-brewing, Tonks," said Remus quietly.


	4. Owls and Wyverns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorry," he said. "But I can't do this with him looking at me."
> 
> She turned to see Errol's big, lamp-like eyes trained on them.

When Tonks returned to her apartment the following Friday night, she found a dirty feather duster on her coffee table. Her brown eagle owl, Tango, was staring unblinkingly at the feather duster, his tawny eye tufts raised disapprovingly. She quickly realised that the feather duster was actually the Weasley family's owl. For _years_ , the Weasley owl had been infamous for crashing into windows, passing out from the exhaustion of delivering letters, and dropping packages.

Tonks felt uncomfortable. She knew the Weasleys were kind people who lived on a shoestring and probably couldn't afford another owl. She also knew that owls performed a necessary function in the wizarding world - in the absence of a magical postal service, they delivered notes to other witches and wizards - and it wasn't really an option to _not have_ an owl. However, the Weasley's owl was trulyancient - probably weeks or months from death. Tonks felt that it wouldn't have killed the family to resort to using other owls, in order to let their own live out his last days in peace.

Tonks gently moved the Weasley owl aside and as she did so, Tango relaxed - he recognised that his human regarded the unconscious old timer as a friend. Before she opened the letter, she grabbed a tea towel and arranged it with a well in the centre, setting up a makeshift 'nest'. She plonked the unconscious owl into the tea towel nest and ripped open the letter.

It was from Bill, suggesting that they meet at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow - Saturday - at 5pm. Despite the condition of the Weasley owl she smiled, feeling a familiar tug of anticipation low in her belly.

Tonks dashed off a response:

' _Yes! But can we do 7? I have plans during the day and I'm not sure when they'll finish._

_P.S. your exhausted owl is staying at my place for tonight - he won't make it home. Send your reply back with my owl.'_

Tonks had pushed their meeting (date?) back because she had Order business the next day - but she didn't want to say that outright, incase her owl was intercepted. She tied the note to Tango's chases, whispered in his ear, and then the giant owl blinked at her, before soaring effortlessly through the window and into the night.

Tonks busied herself making dinner (reheated Pad Thai), and gently carried the Weasley owl into her bedroom. She placed him down on her dressing table and muttered a charm to dull the dressing table mirror, lest he be awoken by the light or heat it would reflect at sunrise the next morning.

****break*****

By the next morning, the Weasley owl was upright again and squawking. Tango had returned, with confirmation from Bill - and a request that she keep 'Errol' (the exhausted owl) for one more day. As she sipped her tea and fed both owls, she contemplated her disguise for the day. She decided she was going to pose as an older witch, and found some staid, well-worn navy blue robes in her cupboard. Ordinarily, she wouldn't be seen dead in those robes - just as a sensible forty something wouldn't be seen dead in her ripped jeans, colourful-patched denim overalls or spaghetti strap tops. Before leaving, she shut the Weasley owl in Tango's travelling owl cage, put him in her bedroom and closed the door, leaving Tango with the run of the rest of the flat - just in case the two fought.

Sirius and Remus were drinking tea in the kitchen of Grimmauld place when Tonks arrived.

"Tonks! I see Moony's fashion sense has grown on you!" Sirius greeted her a little more warmly than usual.

She asked them if "Moony" was "Remus" - she thought Remus grimaced slightly at this, but then wondered if she had imagined it.

"He is," Sirius said, throwing a quizzical glance (which she definitely hadn't imagined) at Remus. "And why are you dressed like a librarian?"

"New disguise," she announced, screwing up her face and giving herself a squarer face with a stronger jaw, short grey hair and lots of wrinkles.

Remus let out a guffaw of appreciative laughter and said: "You definitely match that outfit."

"Moony can't be happy. He was hoping the regulars at Diagon Alley would notice that he had a different, pretty young woman on his arm each weekend!" Sirius chuckled.

"I doubt anyone could mistake me for a Lothario," Remus said curtly.

Tonks filled the resulting awkward silence by giving herself another four inches of height. "I'm weighing up the pros of having higher vantage point with the cons of being more conspicuous," she said cheerfully. "Thoughts?"

"It's great, maybe you could try "half giant" next weekend," said Sirius. "And perhaps tall, middle aged librarians - which refers to both of you, by the way - are just the type to have a dog?"

"It's far too risky," Remus said quickly.

"You two said something about a guard dog last time," said Tonks. "What's it code for? What do you mean?"

Remus looked at her appraisingly.

"Don't arrest me," said Sirius. Then his face contorted, his body shrank and in his place stood a large black dog.

"An _animagus_!" Tonks yelped with excitement. "That's how you did it, isn't it? That's how you got out - and why we couldn't catch you even before the Order recruited Kingsley!"

Remus smiled - quite disarmingly, she thought. "Sirius was a truly brilliant student. He didn't work nearly as hard as I did, but his marks were significantly better - something I always resented."

"That's a bloody brilliant trick," Tonks said. "And here I was, thinking I was the master of disguise just because I can change my hair colour!"

The dog bounded over to them, jumping up and placing both paws on Remus's torso. Tonks wondered vaguely whether the two had ever been more than friends.

"Sirius, you can't come with us," Remus said firmly. "It would not do to trade your freedom for an outing to Knockturn Alley.

"How about a couple of concealment spells on you, Remus?" Tonks asked. "Won't these 'regulars' get suspicious if they see you skulking around apothecaries for several weekends in a row?"

"I doubt it," Remus replied. "Nobody who knows me would be particularly stunned to find me in an apothecary."

"I thought you said you were no potioneer?" Tonks questioned.

Dog-Sirius snorted.

"I suppose you were just being modest - like our bad-boy transfiguration expert," Tonks surmised, heading for the door.

The dog barked at her retreating back.

*****break*****

They weren't tailing Yaxley this time, but the short, squat, shabbily attired, rather more roughly spoken and less intelligent Amycus Carrow. He went directly to the Apothecary - not the one that Yaxley had used, with an address in Knockturn and Diagon (as though keeping a foot in each camp), but the enormous, bustling main Apothecary of Diagon Alley. He purchased an unusually large quantity of flobberworm mucus, gallons of moderately expensive Horklump Juice and - with a pained expression - three eye-wateringly expensive unicorn horns.

Carrow's next stop was Borgin and Burkes. Tonks followed him inside, while Remus waited outside. It was a dusty, dark shop, but its architecture hinted at past splendour, with a huge, stone fireplace and sturdy doric columns. She examined a brilliant opal necklace - ' _CURSED - DO NOT TOUCH' -_ and row upon row of neatly-labelled vials of poison. However, after selling Mr Borgin a string of shrunken heads (and arguing at length over the price), Carrow left the shop without buying anything. He then left the Alleys without buying anything further.

Back in the kitchen at Grimmauld place, Tonks and Remus compared notes.

"He sold Borgin a string of shrunken heads, but he didn't buy anything," said Tonks.

"Either he wishes to divest himself of Dark artefacts in his possession, or he needs cash quickly," said Remus.

"What about the apothecary?" Asked Tonks.

"What about it? I seem to remember that you are the potions enthusiast," said Remus.

Tonks felt a sharp, prickling heat creep over her face, shoulders and chest, and then race down her arms and the backs of her hands. Remus had described himself as "terrible" with potions - if he wanted to be so blatantly, falsely modest, he was at least partly to blame for this misunderstanding.

"Remus, I didn't mean to brag - I was just trying to make conversation. So, enough of the modesty - what do you think about those three ingredients?" She forced herself to sound cheerful and polite.

But Remus's thick eyebrows shot up, and his eyes widened almost comically.

"It was a genuine inquiry, Tonks! I really don't know which potions call for those ingredients. Worse than that - I don't understand the properties of potion ingredients. I couldn't even take an educated guess as to what kind of brew would require them," said Remus.

This admission only made her feel twice as embarrassed.

"But you said that people who know you…wouldn't be surprised to find you in an apothecary?" Tonks wondered. "And then Sirius - well dog Sirius, really - snorted like that was very funny. Oh and last weekend, in the Leaky Cauldron, you said you couldn't brew potions to save yourself and Tom seemed surprised!"

Tonks quickly realised she'd said the wrong thing, because Remus's amused smile had faded, and once again his expression was rather pained. He was silent for a moment too long to maintain the rhythm of the conversation.

"I have a health condition, and the only treatment is a particularly complex potion. I cannot brew it myself; however, if someone recognised me in an apothecary, they would probably assume that I was purchasing the necessary ingredients," said Remus, at last

"Oh I'm sorry!" Exclaimed Tonks. "Me and my big mouth - forget I spoke.'

"Tonks, it's nothing - truly. Please don't think on it," said Remus.

"Alright - well," Tonks shook her head, as if clearing it of their earlier misunderstanding. "Unicorn horns cost loads - as we saw today - and they're only used in a small number of fairly complex potions. You wouldn't buy them just to have on hand - or if you weren't confident in your ability to use them properly."

"Probably not for his personal supplies then?" Asked Remus.

"Look, I don't like to be prejudiced. Maybe Amycus Carrow's a keen potioneer, underneath that…er…un-scholarly exterior," mumbled Tonks. She knew that she didn't look like an auror, and she didn't like making snap judgments about other people's abilities.

"Tonks, your open-mindedness is truly touching - but we must generalise, otherwise we will never get anywhere," said Remus, his top lip twitching.

"Yeah but Remus, do you suppose he's procuring supplies for some big death eater potion project? Because the thing about unicorn horns is, they're only used in healing remedies and they're _**useless**_ in all Dark potions," said Tonks.

"I rather suspected that, given the unicorn's reputation as a pure creature of the light. What about the other two ingredients?" Asked Remus.

"I can only thing of one thing Horklump juice is used for - the Wiggenweld potion. It's a pretty complex type of healing potion, though I hear Snape once asked a first year class to make it," Tonks hoped that snippet would make Remus laugh - and he did smile ruefully.

"Flobberworm mucus is used in loads of different potions - including the Wiggenweld potion. Remus, it's hard to escape the conclusion that the death eaters want to brew healing potions," said Tonks, flipping through her notebook. "Aha! And the stuff Yaxley got last week - dragon's liver, stewed mandrake and bubotuber puss - is also used in a range of healing potions."

Both Tonks and Remus found this development confusing - Voldemort was not known for his compassion toward his supporters. It would be most unlike him to brew vats of healing potion before sending them off on dangerous missions - he'd expect them to take care of themselves in that regard, if indeed he turned his mind to the matter of his foot soldiers' injures at all.

After Tonks had left, Sirius returned to the kitchen. He was surprised to find Remus still there, guilt lining his face. Sirius pursed his lips, but said nothing, and busied himself making a pot of tea.

"Moony - tea," Sirius harrumphed, putting the cup down under his friend's nose.

"I haven't told her," Remus said, at last.

"Yes, I got that far," said Sirius. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Yelped Remus. "Because she seems relaxed and comfortable in my company. She told me about her interests, she was confident enough to direct me - and most of all, she is careful of my feelings. I don't want to lose yet another new, friendly acquaintance."

"Moony," said Sirius sadly, "you've got to give people a chance. We all want to heal your pain."

*****break*****

Tonks met Bill in the Leaky Cauldron, and felt an inexplicable stab of sadness when Tom greeted her saying: "We haven't seen you in a very long time, I thought you'd found a better pub!"

However, it was good to visit the Leaky Cauldron as herself and to be recognised by the people she knew. Bill waved from a table at the back and Tonks ordered a beer from Tom, before joining her old flame.

"Picked the prime seat did you, Bill?" Tonks teased.

When he looked uncertain, she clarified: "back to the wall, best view of the door."

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Mock-barked Bill, in a good (if slightly quiet) Mad Eye impression.

"You'd better be vigilant, Bill. Because this seating arrangement has my back in a direct line to the door - and I'm looking at the wall," Tonks pretended to huff.

"Yeah, Mad Eye wouldn't approve,"said Bill. "Hungry? I know the food here isn't great, but I wanted to come back, anyway."

"Nostalgic, after all those years away in Egypt?" Tonks supplied.

He agreed, and they eventually decided on steak and kidney pie. Both felt that it was probably the Leaky Cauldron's only edible meal.

"I'm not sure whether I miss living with the goblins, or not," said Bill. "They're a very interesting lot - well-read, shrewd, and even Machiavellian sometimes. They taught me a great deal."

"You know how the goblins at Gringotts are all male? Well - er - do the female goblins all have to stay home?" Tonks asked.

"Generally, yes. Although a few break that taboo, which is easier to do if the goblin is brilliant - in terms of intelligence, or mathematical or magical ability. There were female goblin bookkeepers and speculators in Egypt. However, most were cooks, maids and housewives."

They fell into companionable conversation about Bill's exploits in Egypt. Tonks didn't mind talking about herself - she wasn't shy - but she didn't mind listening to someone else's interesting stories, either. After several more beers and a hearty serving of steak and kidney pie, Tonks was feeling bolder.

"Hey Bill - let's go to the White Wyvern on Knockturn," she suggested.

"Knocturn Alley?" He replied. "Isn't it full of death eaters?"

"We could change our appearances. You can cast some charms - grow a beard, change your hair colour," she replied.

"Insanity," said Bill, primly. "Tonks, that is out of the question and impossible. I don't know how to give myself a beard."

She flashed him a glittering smile and said: "That's the spirit!"

*****break*****

After they settled up, they continued out the back of the pub to Diagon Alley. Tonks momentarily wondered why there was no pub actually inside Diagon Alley. However, she was distracted by Bill hauling her into the shadows beside Twilfitt and Tatting's.

"Beard?" She asked.

"Yep - not red, though. I should change my hair, look less like a Weasley," said Bill.

"Blond," Tonks replied immediately. "When adopting hasty disguises, it's best to stick with your colouring. Otherwise, the end result can look unnatural - which tips people off."

He smiled cheekily, took out his wand and muttered a series of incantations. The bottom inch of his longish hair turned blond. He tried again, and the entire left side of his hair was blond.

Tonks sighed in mock exasperation, flicked her wand and made him Malfoy blond. Then she gave him a neat, if slightly long, beard.

"Nice one!" Bill sounded like the painfully young, wondering Gringott's curse breaker that he had once been. "But why would you even learn to do that?"

"Because the 'concealment and disguise' section of auror training requires you to be able to alter someone else's appearance. You know - witnesses, at-risk persons," secretly, Tonks was enjoying the praise.

"I'll be David," said Bill. "Common enough - hey, if you'll be Aphrodite then I'll buy all of your drinks!"

She scowled, knowing he knew she hated Classical Greek names - especially those which paid homage to deities associated with love.

"Winnie," she said sharply.

*****break*****

The White Wyvern was an infamously dodgy pub on Knockturn Alley. It was small, and uncomfortably sandwiched between a tattoo parlour and a pawnbrokers. There was a rickety, wooden flight of stairs which began at street level, curved neatly around the turret of the tattoo parlour, and then climbed sharply, before emerging onto a short landing in front of a heavy wooden door, roughly fifteen feet above ground level.

The door opened - as they worked out, after a few moments' blundering - when a wand was tapped to the glassy peephole. The door slowly swung open to reveal a small, cramped pub. The first thing to hit Tonks was the raucous noise, followed by the dark, rough-looking wooden floorboards. Then she noticed the old, dusty, circular wooden bar, from behind which bartenders were working with great speed. Next, her eyes drank in the silk carpets, which hung adorning the walls. Each one looked like the real thing and displayed a different blast of swirling colour: one was purple, red and gold; one was terracotta, yellow, green and bronze; one was cherry red, brilliant gold and dark brown.

"Drink, Winnie?" Asked David.

"Love one, thanks D," she said cheekily.

He returned with two goblets of chilled, silver-coloured wine.

"Looks perfect for this warm night," said Tonks, appreciatively. "What is that?"

"I was surprised to see it," said Bill quietly. "It's goblin wine. It's delicious and strong - and a source of shame to some goblins, who don't think their species should be fattening its overlords."

"We give the magical beings a hard time, don't we," mused Tonks, sipping her wine. It had the faintest hint of a spritz and was neither sweet nor sour, but faintly fruity. Delicious.

Then, the conversation turned to what, precisely, a "Wyvern" was. Tonks was sure it was a type of dragon, but Bill (whose brother was a dragon expert - the same brother who'd been friends with Tonks at Hogwarts) assured her that it wasn't, because it didn't breathe fire and was too small. Actually, he said, Wyverns may not exist.

"How many times per week do you reckon that you face death?" Bill asked suddenly.

"Er - most weeks zero. Some weeks five or six times," replied Tonks, caught off guard.

"Never give it up for a desk job," said Bill, sounding uncharacteristically bitter.

After they left the White Wyvern, Tonks and Bill drifted down Knockturn Alley, stying close to each other.

At last, Tonks said: "it's a clear night - we could see the stars, if we weren't in London."

Bill stopped in front of her, a slight smile flickering across his face.

Emboldened, she took a half step closer. They really were very close, now.

"I didn't think you were one for astronomy, Nymphie," said Bill. He turned to walk away, but held out his hand as he did so. She grabbed it and they headed down one of the narrow, dark, twisting, beckoning lanes of Knockturn Alley.

He led her a few metres into a tiny lane - so narrow they could not walk side by side - put a hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. She'd always liked this about him - the fact that he made no assumptions.

"Bill," she murmured. "Are you after a snogging session in the depths of Knockturn Alley?"

"Maybe a full _session_ is a bit risky, seeing as it's Knockturn," he replied, placing a hand on her waist. His eyes had closed slightly, and he was gazing down at her lips.

She reached up, cupping the back of his neck with her hand and threading her fingers into the hair at the base of his skull.

Bill leant down and kissed her, his lips lightly grazing hers. Her spare hand automatically flew to his upper arm, and her thumb caressed the front of his bicep. Her first thought was that he had unusually full, soft lips for a man. She idly wondered whether she thought this was a positive, a negative, or neither - drawing circles high up on the back of Bill's neck, gently rubbing his scalp as she did so. She felt the light touch on her waist disappear, to be replaced by a heavy, warm hand on the small of her back. He pulled her in closer; his other hand found its way to the middle of her upper back as he kissed her with renewed vigour. The hand on the small of her back dropped, cupping her arse, and he pulled her upwards and closer still. She stood there - kissing him back and allowing her tongue to brush his - for a few minutes, before they broke apart.

"Bill, we should go somewhere else," said Tonks.

"The whole family are at Grimmauld Place," said Bill, frowning.

"Then my place?" Suggested Tonks. "And you can pick up that poor owl!"

*****break*****

Back at Tonks's flat, she directed Bill to sit on the sofa and handed him a beer. Tango was nowhere to be seen - which was normal, he spent most nights out hunting. She went into her bedroom - separated from the tiny makeshift "lounge room" only by a curtain - and found Errol awake in the cage, hooting softly. She carried the cage out to Bill and plonked it on the table, causing Errol to coo in protest.

Tonks addressed Bill gently: "I know money's a bit tight at the moment, but that owl needs his retirement. He was knocked out on the table when I came home, and still unconscious when I went to bed."

"I know," Bill grimaced. "Honestly, we should've stopped using him months ago. Maybe even years ago. But we can't afford a new one."

"I reckon he's only got a few months left - so it's money you'd be spending soon, anyway," Tonks said briskly.

Seeing Bill's awkward expression, she softened. "Look - we'll work something out. Your family can borrow Tango - that's my great big eurasian eagle owl - he's in his prime and I don't send that many letters. Lazy bird would probably benefit from more work - he's out hunting now and he'll stay out most of the night."

"My dad wouldn't want to accept charity," Bill winced.

"It's not charity," she said firmly. "It's me helping a friend out, and it's not exactly a great sacrifice. Your family are living at Grimmauld now, and I'm round there all the time."

She opened a beer for herself, then joined Bill on the couch.

For a few minutes, they adopted the pretence of talking. Then, talking fell away into kissing, which found Tonks topless, straddling a seated Bill and pushing her nipples into his face. His tongue had just started doing something delightful to the inside of her bottom lip when he broke off, rather abruptly.

"Sorry," he said. "But I can't do this with him looking at me."

She turned to see Errol's big, lamp-like eyes trained on them.

"He wouldn't dare tell on me!" She squealed, in a voice of mock-betrayal. "I've been negotiating for his retirement!"

"Not with the family owl watching, Tonks!" He chuckled.

In her bedroom, clothes came off in an efficient, businesslike manner. She pushed him to lie back on the pillow and dropped a knee on either side of his hips. She liked being on top at the start of a sexual encounter, because it let her set the pace and gave her free rein to explore him. He was pale and wiry, with a thick steak of reddish-brown hair running down his abdomen. She moved to lie between his legs and began kissing his stomach, to groans of approval. She moved to lick his cock (she always rushed the build to this bit - it made her self-conscious), and at the peak of a long lick she moved her tongue back down, capping the tip with her mouth as she did so. She tried to draw out the blowjob phase, and to focus on the pleasant, tingling sensations on her lips. But it didn't take long before she wanted to move on. She removed her mouth and looked up at him.

He must have got the message, because he sat up quickly and kissed her, before rolling her into her back and stroking his tip against her folds. She was mildly irritated at this, because she wasn't ready - maybe only half as wet as she could have been. He seemed to get that message, too, because he moved down the bed and buried his face between her legs, licking her softly.

The actual sex, when they got round to it, started with slow (almost tentative) missionary. She liked missionary - liked being able to rub his back and hook her legs around his waist. They were old lovers, and their practiced routine returned to them fairly easily. They flipped, to have her on top - she enjoyed moving her hips, practicing control over her internal muscles (relaxed on the way down, starting to tighten on the way up) and watching the flush creep from his face, down his pale neck and to his chest.


	5. Dementors and Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But Sir, why were the dementors harassing muggles in Surrey?" Tonks asked her superior, a rather sullen, middle-aged man by the name of John Dawlish. "Black was last seen in Chechnya!"
> 
> Dawlish wouldn't meet her eyes, and dismissively muttered something about faulty intelligence, and the need to dot 'i's and cross 't's.
> 
> *****
> 
> "NO!" Sirius howled, a look of delighted comprehension twisting his mouth as he spoiled the surprise. "SHOW US!"

Dementors and Metamorphosis

On Sunday, Tonks awoke earlier than usual. For a fleeting moment, she started at the presence of someone else in her bed - and then she clocked the sleeping Bill Weasley next to her. She relaxed, reminding herself that she liked waking up to find a man in her bed - and Bill was warm, firm and a generally comforting presence. However, she had an Order mission: tailing death eaters on their shopping trips yet again, but this time with Hestia Jones instead of Remus.

She eased herself out of bed and threw on a sundress. In her makeshift lounge room, she saw Tango sleeping on his perch, apparently untroubled by the still-caged Errol. She opened the cage and Errol hopped out. She then made herself a coffee and sat on the sofa, absentmindedly smoothing the barn owl's feathers and pondering the night's events. Two years prior, Tonks had visited Bill in Egypt and they'd had a wonderful affair. Last night had been fun - the sex had been uncommonly good, and their date (especially to Knockturn Alley) was all companionable conversation and shared jokes. But now, she found herself wondering what it all meant - and whether she even wanted it to mean anything.

She was relieved to see Bill appear, looking slightly sheepish, before she would have had to wake him up.

"I've got another Order job," she announced briskly.

She didn't like calling it a "mission", because she was slightly embarrassed that all Dumbledore considered her fit for was following death eaters into apothecaries. However, she comforted herself with the thought that maybe she was chosen for this task due to her unique ability to completely disguise her appearance.

"We can go back to Grimmauld together - I'll take Errol," said Bill.

"Yes, and please consider retiring him. I mean it, Tango can take your family's letters," said Tonks.

*****break*****

Tonks and Bill apparated to the top step of Grimmauld Place together. Distracted by thoughts of last night's escapades, she fell victim to the troll leg umbrella stand.

"Nice. Subtle entrance," muttered Bill, putting Errol's cage down.

"BLOOD TRAITOR! FREAK!"

Both of them raced to the now-open curtains framing Mrs Black's portrait. They were tugging on the curtains when Ron, Ginny, Hestia, Sirius and Remus all emerged from the corridor leading to the basement kitchen.

"MORE BLOOD TRAITORS! UNWORTHY SON WHO BLIGHTS MY FAMILY! HALF BREED! VILE BEAST OF THE NIGHT!" Mrs Black threw in, for some variety.

"Nice little reunion," Sirius boomed, as Bill and Tonks were still struggling to wrest the curtains shut.

Remus appeared next to her in an instant, helping her to pull on the curtain, and Ron did the same with Bill's curtain. They drew the curtains shut and Mrs Black's shrieking died. Tonks hoped that no one would notice or think too much of the fact that she and Bill had arrived together. Judging by the dark look that Ron had shot her, she suspected that this was a vain hope.

She also didn't think she was imagining the faintly concerned look on Hestia's face - and she couldn't blame the other witch. She wouldn't really want to go on a tracking mission with someone who couldn't even walk through a doorway, either.

*****break*****

Hestia and Tonks sat in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Walden Macnair to show his face. As usual, she was facing the door - exposing her morphed face to the room, allowing her partner to turn their back on the room, had become her normal practice because she knew it was impossible for anyone to recognise her. Today, she was a short, skinny twenty-something witch with green eyes and a chestnut brown crop.

She had managed to find a common area with Hestia - quidditch - and was beginning to think that her earlier misgivings were unfounded.

"The Holyhead Harpies are my favourites, of course. But I love the Bulgarian team," Hestia said, as if confiding a dark secret. "I even love the tactic of using Veela as mascots, to distract the other players."

"The only team who aren't affected by the Veela are the Holyhead Harpies, because they're all women," said Tonks.

"Exactly," said Hestia. "That's partly why I find it so funny."

They both laughed as they sipped their gillywater. However, the moment was not to last. A man - tall, muscular, olive-skinned and dark haired, with thin, sparse moustache - appeared in the doorway.

"I'll follow him, you settle up," Tonks said, and Hestia nodded.

To Tonk's surprise, Macnair took an unexpected turn down a narrow lane, toward a row of temporary stalls and peddlers. She was positively shocked when he stopped outside a confectionary, though understanding replaced amazement when Macnair demanded a pint of honeywater. The proprietor stammered that they didn't usually sell raw materials, only finished sweets. Macnair growled something about Ministry business, and knowing that the shopkeeper's daughter had an unregistered Thestral - the second man relented, emerging with a very large jar of honeywater.

Tonks then followed Macnair to the corner of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, where he - as she'd expected - entered Mr Mulpeper's Apothecary. He purchased some restorative draughts, an unusually large quantity of Chizpurfle fangs and a quantity of readymade Wiggenweld potion. Tonks was pleased by all of these items. The honeywater and chizpurfle fangs were Wiggenweld ingredients - and if she were about to start brewing massive quantities of Wiggenweld, she would certainly want a test quantity of apothecary made potion, in order to ascertain that her own was correct.

Turning on his heel, he left the shop via the Knockturn Alley door. Tonks expected him to go direct to Borgin and Burkes, and was surprised when he stopped at Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons. She was even more surprised when his only purchase was something designed for the keen gardener and cultivator of premium edible plants: flesh eating slug repellant.

****break*****

Tonks's Monday was busy - but unfortunately she was tracking down dementor-affected muggles, rather than fearsome Death Eaters. By the end of the day she felt like she was a counsellor, rather than a dark wizard catcher. She'd handed out about a hundred chocolate digestives and listened to many muggles' worst life experiences, and had not heard one single mention of a Death Eater. The official line was that the dementors were hunting for Black, and became distracted by a children's picnic in a park.

"But Sir, why were the dementors harassing muggles in Surrey?" Tonks asked her superior, a rather sullen, middle-aged man by the name of John Dawlish. "Black was last seen in Chechnya!"

Dawlish wouldn't meet her eyes, and dismissively muttered something about faulty intelligence, and the need to dot 'i's and cross 't's.

This alarmed Tonks. Kingsley had used his position as head of the search for Sirius Black to lay a false trail leading to the mountains in Chechnya. Chechnya was chosen because the muggle population was presently embroiled in a shambolic war, which meant that it would be incredibly difficult for aurors to search the place and confirm that Black was not in fact there.

In December of the previous year, Russian forces had attacked the Chechen capital of Grozny. Right from the start, Russian morale was low. A leading general resigned in protest, stating that the Chechens were their countrymen and calling the invasion "a crime." Russian military leaders variously advocated for greater force to be used, or for restraint and mercy to be shown. Well-respected Officers and mercenaries resigned in their hundreds, and were hastily replaced by figures who commanded little respect among ordinary soldiers. Revolt, desertion, sabotage, friendly fire and vengeful brutality were commonplace - but Grozny fell. Russian forces then pressed into the rural, mountainous regions of Chechnya and met ferocious guerrilla resistance. In response, Chechen forces spilled across the border into Russia, and embarked upon a desperate program of mass hostage-takings and civilian executions.

The region was plunged into political and military chaos. Though most of the magical community paid scant attention to muggle politics, even powerful wizards steered clear of muggle wars. They could block projectiles and heal wounds, but they had to see the threat in advance. Total shield charms capable of withstanding shrapnel, gunfire and bombing were hard to cast - and generally had to be fixed in one place. The unpredictable behaviour of the fraying, mutinous Russian military and the desperate Chechen guerrilla fighters made it impossible to plan recon missions.

Kingsley's gamble had paid off - the Auror Office decided that entering the Chechen mountains was a suicide mission. Their orders were to watch and wait. However, Dawlish's behaviour indicated that the rest of the Auror Office might be beginning to doubt that Sirius was abroad at all.

Later that day, Tonks surreptitiously caught Kingsley's attention, and informed him that she'd finished that report into the known locations of Azerbaijani Warlock communities. Of course, he had requested no such report.

"Tonks! My office!" Said Kingsley angrily, causing Hugo Proudfoot to shoot her a sympathetic glance.

"They suspect Sirius is in the UK," said Tonks in a low voice, once Kingsley had emptied his office of two affronted-looking senior aurors and cast an imperturbable. "They don't believe the Chechnya story anymore."

Kingsley regarded her calmly as she recounted her day's tasks and explained that Dawlish (and no doubt some other senior aurors) seemed to think the rogue dementors were hunting for Sirius.

He thanked her for the information, and told her to leave the office "looking like you've just been told off" and meet him "in the kitchen of Grmmauld Place, at seven PM".

*****break*****

In the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Tonks was greeted by an unexpected scene: lots of people (some familiar and some not) assembled around the kitchen table, with Kingsley standing at the head, in front of a large whiteboard on which a pen was writing unaided. Bill gave her a friendly wave, Sirius a nod of acknowledgement, and Remus a warm smile.

Tonks stood awkwardly in the doorway for moment, considering her options: could she just sit anywhere? Would it be better to sit in the wrong seat, or disturb the meeting by asking if she could sit down (like a bloody schoolgirl)? The problem was solved when she saw Remus mutter something to Sirius, and the two move their chairs apart. Remus summoned another chair next to him and pointed to it. She smiled gratefully and crossed the room to join them but stepped on someone's foot as she did so, causing her hip and the side of her buttock to fall against their torso.

Her victim grunted, obviously trying to restrain a louder, less dignified noise of protest. Getting off him hurriedly, she saw that he was an oddly familiar-looking man - black hair stark against sallow skin, and heavily cloaked in black robes despite the warmth of the day. A thrill of horrified recognition erupted in the pit of Tonks's stomach.

"Nymphadora, I was labouring under the happy illusion that I would be spared from your carelessness for the rest of my life," the man said in a tone of quiet contempt.

It was none other than Tonks's infamously strict former potions master.

"Prof- um, I mean Snape?" She said rather meekly. In truth, she'd taken so long to recognise Snape because he looked rather ill and pitiable - two adjectives she'd never previously have associated with the man who gave her detention on a weekly basis.

"You were my student for seven years and it appears you wouldn't know me if you tripped over me in a dark alley," said Snape, snapping her out of her horrified contemplation. "Standards must have fallen at the auror office."

Her hasty apology died on her lips, and she stared at Snape angrily. It was one thing to be the strictest teacher in school, but quite another to treat your colleagues with such autocratic disdain.

"Well done, I am indeed Professor Snape. However," drawled Snape, as though he had merely remarked on the weather. "You may call me Severus."

Tonks looked up at Remus (who had dropped his gaze and was pinching the bridge of his nose) and Sirius (who was openly shaking with silent laughter). Mortified, she carefully crept toward them, pretending that the entire room hadn't heard her exchange with Snape.

"While everyone's taking their seats," Kingsley rescued her, his voice louder than usual. "I'll get started on our main issue for this evening: Sirius Black."

"You know me Kingsley, always the troublemaker," said Sirius. His voice had the strangled quality of a man trying not to laugh, his grey eyes glittered eagerly and his face was flushed.

Tonks shakily dropped into the seat between Remus and her cousin. She caught the twist of Remus's lip and realised he was still fighting paroxysms of laughter.

"It appears the auror office no longer believe that you are in the mountains of Chechnya - in fact, they believe that you are here, in the UK," Kinglsey said gravely.

To Tonks's surprise, Sirius looked thrilled.

"Bound to happen sooner or later, Kingsley," said Sirius, scarcely containing his grin. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. So, shall I travel to Bulgaria and let myself be seen?"

"Sirius, you will do nothing of the sort," said Kingsley. "I've been considering this possibility for some time. I've already planned for this eventuality - and indeed that's why I called a meeting.

"In a few days, someone from the order will travel to Tibet, taking a vial of polyjuice potion," said Kingsley. "Once in Tibet, he will find a town or village in the foothills of the mountains. Perhaps Shigatse, though it is a little too close to the capital. That village or town will be just busy enough that someone will recognise and report Sirius Black, but just empty enough that the populace will take time deciding whether or not the man they just saw was Sirius Black - and whether or not to report him-"

Sirius squeaked as if to speak, but Kingsley held up a hand.

"Once he has found a suitable village, our agent will then take the polyjuice potion - bearing in mind he has an hour of transfiguration, at most - and get seen," concluded Kingsley.

Sirius's groan communicated disappointment and frustration.

"Remus knows Sirius best. He would be ideal for this mission," Kingsley said, apparently ignoring Sirius's mutinous expression.

"Remus can't do it, we're approaching his time of the month," said Sirius, irritably.

To Tonk's surprise, Remus glared furiously at Sirius, and nodded self-consciously at Kingsley.

Only a moment ago, she'd been so relieved to settle into the seat between these two. Now, watching the two men glaring at each other, she felt as though she'd been dropped into the middle of a mystifying family feud.

"I won't even need potion!" Tonks said, spreading her arms wide to emphasise her point and almost knocking Remus's glass of water out of his hand. She winced. She'd be lucky if this wasn't her last Order meeting.

Kingsley regarded her sceptically, and asked: "have you any connections at all in Tibet, or any of the neighbouring states?"

She had to admit that she did not, and hoped he didn't think her incompetent - more than that, she often felt that among the aurors (who were mostly male) she had to carry the torch for her entire sex.

"I would do it myself, but I've got guard duty all week. Bill?" Kingsley's choice made Tonks feel the sting of failure even more profoundly. "Gringotts sent you to a tomb near Kathmandu, once, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did," Bill took over. "I've got several contacts in the region - including a Nepalese Sherpa, who is also a wizard."

Kingsley nodded approvingly and gave Bill the job.

Discussion then turned to guard duty, which meant after-hours monitoring of the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. Kingsley was doing the lion's share of the work, as his presence there could be easily explained away if he was caught. Emmeline Vance (a very tall, broad-shouldered witch in her forties, who Tonks didn't recognise) would be working with him for the remainder of this week. Tonks was due to start at the end of next week.

As the meeting concluded and order members filed out, Tonks made to bid Remus and Sirius farewell.

Sirius stopped her: "Not fo fast, cousin! Remus, Bill and Hestia are staying back for a drink - you should, too."

Tonks accepted - she had work the next morning, but it wasn't yet nine and truthfully she was pleased that her cousin was extending the hand of friendship, and keen to bond with the order.

*****break****

The five set up in the basement kitchen, as it was well insulated and their chatter would not carry throughout the house. Sirius busied himself fetching everyone beers.

"So," Sirius said as he handed Tonks a beer "pleasant reunion with your old teacher?"

"He's not much nicer to adults than he is to students, is he?” Tonks asked almost-rhetorically.

"I may be known to most of my colleagues as 'the greasy git', 'Professor Snape' or "Snivellus' - however," drawled Sirius, in an exaggeratedly oily voice. "You may call me Severus!"

The room erupted, and Sirius's laugh was the loudest. When he spoke again, his voice was entirely his own: "Do you reckon that's Snivellus trying to be charming?"

Bill guffawed, and repeated 'you may call me Severus' with a predatory kind of purr.

"Fuck, I'd pay good money to see Snivellus trying to flirt - but perhaps not with my cousin," said Sirius. "Tonks's hip smacking into his shoulder is probably the most action he's seen in years."

"He really shouldn't have made that jibe about the auror office lowering its standards," Remus said, frowning. "Severus has a personal grudge against Sirius and me, but I can't imagine you've ever done anything awful to him."

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure," said Tonks.

Bill sniggered again, and Remus, Tonks and Hestia all looked at Tonks with bemused expressions. Bill, however, looked expectant.

"I used to…er…" began Tonks.

"NO!" Sirius howled, a look of delighted comprehension twisting his mouth as he spoiled the surprise. "SHOW US!"

Promptly, Tonks downed the rest of her beer and signalled Sirius for a second. Then, she assumed Snape's features - Snape's head sat atop a young, smallish, denim-clad female body.

Her morph wasn't as perfect as it once had been; at school she usually imitated Snape right after a potions lesson, or on the rare occasion that he left the room during one. This meant she had the luxury of numerous clear, recent images of Snape - whereas in the kitchen at Grimmauld place, she was relying on memory (and most of her memories of the potions teacher were of a younger, healthier man). But it was still unmistakably Snape, and a brilliant likeness. She sipped some of her second beer, slurping it rather disgustingly (in truth, Tonks had no idea how Snape ate or drank, having never shared a meal with him, but a loud slurp seemed right for the occasion). The room shook with laughter.

"Today, I will require each and every one of you to produce an acceptable draught of polyjuice potion, together with a serviceable vial of veritaserum," drawled Snape-Tonks, gulping at some more beer. She was a good vocal mimic - though this was due to practice, and unrelated to her morphing abilities. She'd impersonated Snape many times at Hogwarts, and her mimicry of his voice was particularly uncanny.

"Hey doesn't veritaserum take a month or two-" began Bill idly.

" _Weasley!_ I should expect you to know that _both_ of those potions take weeks to steep - two hundred points from Gryffindor for your ignorance! Regardless, it's of no consequence that neither brew can be made in a day. If you wanted to pass this assignment, you should have started a month before I set it!" Snapped Snape-Tonks. "And _Weasley,_ that's another two hundred points from Gryffindor for cheek and unpreparedness!"

Remus was almost in tears - and Hestia and Sirius were actually in tears. Bill, having seen this display before, was still laughing loudly.

"Black! I will have none of this frivolity in my classroom! Detention every Saturday until Christmas - loathsome, carol-singing, merry-making holiday that it is!"

Tonks had done well to maintain her composure for this long, and could not sustain it for much longer. She began laughing - and the sight of Snape laughing with Tonks's snorting enthusiasm prompted a fresh wave of hysterics from her audience.

"We…we do…" Remus was trying to speak through gasps of laughter, and eventually succumbing: "we do…have to…”

It was, Tonks would later reflect, a few minutes of much needed cathartic laughter for the members of the new resistance.

Eventually, Remus said: "We have to continue working with the man, for the foreseeable future."

Bill "booed" him lightly, Hestia rolled her eyes and Sirius said: "lighten up Moony!"

"Quite right, Lupin! One point to…er…Gryffindor? Ravenclaw?" Tonks returned to her usual appearance.

"Anyway," said Tonks. "He caught me."

Sirius bellowed again, and Remus looked at her in open-mouthed horror.

"Yeah, it was in my sixth year," Tonks reminisced. "Snape had been in an unusually foul mood for weeks - even the Slytherins were short a few points and glaring murderously at him. One class, he left the room and I launched into the best Snape performance of my life. Even changed my body to look like a man's. I didn't see him come back."

"What happened?" Remus asked quietly.

"Obviously detention for the rest of the year and Hufflepuff lost about a hundred points. But the worst bit was that I needed a potions NEWT to become an auror, so I had to go back to his class the following year. He wasn't happy with that arrangement at all, and found an excuse to give me a new detention almost every week."

"You really are Sirius's cousin," said Remus, his eyes shining. Tonks felt a sudden urge to keep him locked in conversation, so that she could look at his eyes without being weird. They were muddy green, with flecks (well, really more like striations) of brighter green.

When she regretfully informed them that she had to leave, Bill offered to fetch her owl cage and walk her out.

"We've retired Errol," he said quietly as they stood in the hallway of Grimmauld place.

"Hey, good decision," said Tonks. "And the offer to use my owl stands."

He opened his arms and she leant into him, tilting her face up to kiss him goodnight. They separated quickly, and to his amusement she went straight back in for another one, feeling her internal muscles fluttering expectantly.


	6. Stunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s spectate!” Tonks said, jumping up and then clutching Remus for support as large, blinding white spots obscured her vision. There was nothing wrong with her sense of touch, though, because he noticed he had pleasantly warm, sinewy biceps. She apologised, letting go of his shoulders laughingly.
> 
> He offered her an arm, which she accepted and clutched for a couple of steps, but dropped before they reached the open door into the ballroom. She couldn’t afford to look weak in front of the Order.

Chapter 6 - Stunning

On Tuesday evening there was a tremendous flurry of excitement at the Auror Office. _The_ Harry Potter - the boy on whom Dumbledore’s plans centred, who’d been admired and adored for surviving Voldemort’s killing curse, only to be subject to a careful slander campaign when he claimed that the dark wizard had returned from the dead - had performed magic outside school, in front of a muggle. But Harry Potter hadn’t performed just any old magic - he’d produced a corporeal patronus, which Tonks knew was the main defence against dementors.

When she heard the news, Tonks felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. She raised her hands as if to cover her mouth, but realised this may attract attention and ran them through her short pink hair instead. She wasn’t panicking for Potter, though she felt a surge of sympathy for the boy.

Yesterday, she’d dealt with apparently rogue dementors in Surrey. Her superiors had said that the dementors were searching for Sirius Black, but had declined to tell her more. At the time, Tonks assumed Dawlish had avoided her questions because he didn’t trust the investigation into the whereabouts of Black, and she was part of that investigation. The knowledge that she and Kingsley were hiding Sirius from the Ministry (and by extension, their colleagues) had made her conscience prickle. When Dawlish brushed off the presence of dementors in Surrey, her guilty mind immediately assumed that he suspected her (and Kingsley) of corruption or incompetence. And technically, she supposed, they were engaging in something that was pretty close to corruption.

Tonks realised she’d been so preoccupied with her own guilty conscience that she had missed Dawlish’s; he had told her that the dementors were hunting Sirius Black, but that was a hasty fabrication. His unwillingness to meet her eyes, or to discuss the matter further, was not because he suspected her of hiding Sirius Black. It was due to his own suspicion that the ministry had not sent the dementors to Surrey. On some level, Dawlish knew the Ministry was losing control of the dementors.

_Really_ , she scolded herself, _how could he suspect a twenty two year old junior of being involved in a rebellion? You know fine well he underestimates you. If you weren’t so paranoid you’d have seen it earlier_.

Tonks realised that the dementors terrorising muggles in Surrey weren’t rogue at all - and they weren’t there for Sirius. They’d passed by the muggles on the way to Harry Potter. They were probably following orders to the letter - Voldemort’s orders. War with a renewed Voldemort had become an imminent reality, rather than a theoretical possibility.

Kingsley called an emergency Order meeting the following evening. It was earlier than the last one, and Tonks felt Dawlish’s glare boring into her back as she left the office at five thirty. She’d have to catch up on missed work if she wanted to keep her job - but when? She was starting on guard duty with Kingsley tomorrow evening.

When Tonks arrived in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, she saw the tall, thin impossibly old Albus Dumbledore standing in Kingsley’s usual spot at the head of the table, with Mad Eye sitting in front of him. Tonks felt the tight sensation in her chest relax a little; as long as Voldemort had to contend with both of these legendary old wizards, he surely could not win.

Remus indicated the seat next to him and Sirius; Tonks gratefully dropped into it, the bands of tension in her chest easing slightly more. The room filled quickly, the buzz of muted chatter rising. Snape, she noticed happily, was absent. Then Dumbledore stood up straight and looked as though he was waiting for something, and the room hushed.

“Harry Potter is in serious trouble,” announced Dumbledore without preamble. “Last night, Harry was attacked by dementors and he cast a patronus charm in front of his cousin. The Ministry responded by expelling him from Hogwarts without further investigation, and scheduling a hearing in front of the Wizengamot.”

A few people (Hestia, Bill, Emmeline) made shocked noises, but Tonks saw that Sirius, Remus and Mad Eye looked unsurprised - like her, they already knew.

“Fortunately, I persuaded Cornelius and Mafalda to reserve their decision regarding expulsion until after the hearing. The Hearing is scheduled for the 12th of August; I kindly ask that you all diarise that date immediately,” Dumbledore continued. “Harry has been instructed to remain at Privet Drive, which is home to his maternal Aunt and Uncle. I have a feeling that he will only follow this instruction for a short while longer. Already, I have been forced to send Petunia - Lily’s sister - a howler to ensure her cooperation.”

There were more noises of surprise and distaste throughout the room; Tonks made a mental note to ask Sirius about Harry’s family.

“Time, therefore, is of the essence” said Dumbledore, raising his voice slightly to signal that they should be quiet ( _High School really never ends, does it?_ Mused Tonks). “We must extract Harry without unnecessary delay. However, as is often the case when one warns against unnecessary delay, some delay is necessary.

“The extraction must be clean and quick - it would not do to draw the attention of the Ministry or the Death Eaters. The Weasley family reliably informs me that Harry’s Aunt and Uncle, much as they dislike his presence in their home, also do their utmost to prevent his friends from rescuing him. I do not wish to see Harry’s Aunt or Uncle stunned on my orders, so it would be best if they were out of the house when we extract Harry.”

Tonks was surprised to discover that the Boy Who Lived had fallen victim to the same thing that plagued many witches and wizards in muggleborn families - terrified, loathing relatives.

“I have already decided that Alastor Moody will lead the mission, but what we require from you is a safe, sensible, _low profile_ plan for Harry’s removal from Privet Drive,” Dumbledore concluded, smiling at Mad Eye. “Any ideas?”

Mad Eye seized his opportunity: “side-along apparition!”

“Harry cannot be taken to the top step yet, as he is not privy to the secret of our location. You would have to take him to the street outside and the muggle neighbours might see you appear, as if from nowhere,” said Dumbledore.

“I seem to remember that Harry does own an invisibility cloak, which has aided him on many an adventure at Hogwarts,” said Remus.

Tonks had not realised that Remus knew Harry Potter so well.

“Harry and I won’t both fit under that,” said Mad Eye. “And anyway, I’d need to take backup, just in case the Death Eaters are watching Privet Drive.”

“A thought which constantly haunts me,” agreed Dumbledore. “If Voldemort can send Dementors to attack Harry, he could also send Yaxley, Macnair, the Carrows - and Greyback.”

Tonks shuddered slightly at the mention of Greyback - an infamous werewolf supporter of Voldemort. Sirius and Remus exchanged dark looks over the top of her head.

“A portkey would be safest, but you’d either have to get Ministry permission - or risk Harry’s closest supporters winding up in Azkaban with Voldemort on the loose,” said Sirius. “Unless you’re all unregistered animagi, I wouldn’t recommend Azkaban. That leaves brooms - Harry’s an excellent flier, he’s just like James.”

“Alright, brooms it is,” said Mad Eye irritably. “I would have preferred to move him before dusk, but that’s not an option if we’re flying. Now, we need a diversion to get his Aunt and Uncle out of the house.”

“Their son could sustain a serious injury, which needs immediate hospital care,” muttered Sirius.

Dumbledore frowned at him and said: “Sirius, you would do well to remember that Harry must return, each year, to the house in which his mother’s blood dwells.”

“We could just lure them out of the house,” said Remus. “The trouble is, how?”

“Er…muggles leave the house for work, which usually happens during the day. And at night, they leave to…go to pubs, and to something called the ‘Cinema',” mused Arthur Weasley.

Tonks realised that not having a single muggleborn in the Order was a bit of an oversight.

“I shall leave that question for you to determine,” said Dumbledore serenely. “You have until Thursday evening - time spent planning is time saved managing a disaster. In the meantime, Alastor shall pick his backup team.”

*****break*****

As the meeting concluded, Molly Weasley began asking people to stay for dinner and Tonks was pleased to be invited. Perhaps earlier Order meetings weren’t so bad after all.

Molly asked Tonks to help her prepare dinner and Tonks agreed, then realised that she’d intended to talk to Sirius and Remus. She busied herself setting the table (one broken glass) and chopping the vegetables (one sliced finger). When Molly exasperatedly ushered her out of the kitchen, she was unsurprised. This lack of surprise may have had something to do with the fact that she had deliberately sliced her finger, in order to buy time to talk to Sirius and Remus alone.

She found them in the library and and asked if they had a minute to talk to her. Slightly bemused, they nodded. Sirius offered her a beer at the same time as Remus offered her a lemonade. Tonks knew they’d answer her questions more honestly after a drink.

“I’m with Sirius,” said Tonks. “Come on Remus, a beer or two won’t hurt you.”

Remus sighed, rolled his eyes at them and muttered something about a shared talent for troublemaking. Sirius grinned and disappeared upstairs. Remus asked questions about her work at the Ministry and looked politely interested in her answers, his brow furrowing almost charmingly. She talked about hurriedly laying a false Sirius trail to Chechnya, and about the Dementor-affected muggles in Surrey. Then, she hastily reassured an alarmed Remus that the soul-destroying dementor’s kiss - _the kiss -_ was not performed on any of the muggles.

At that moment, Sirius returned and Tonks gratefully took the cold beer.

“So Harry’s Aunt and Uncle aren’t very nice to him?” Tonks asked, once Sirius had finished his beer.

A beer or two wasn’t enough to make an adult tipsy, but it was enough to relax suspicions. She liked Remus and Sirius, but strongly suspected they were keeping some big secrets from her - and she intended to find out what those secrets were. In answer to her question, both men shook their heads.

“The Dursleys - that’s Harry’s Aunt and Uncle - treat him like shit and they hate anything that makes him happy,” Sirius said bitterly.

“He’s a very nice boy,” Remus said. “Despite what the Prophet are saying, he’s not at all pleased with himself-”

“Although he’s earned the right to be,” muttered Sirius.

“How do you know him, exactly?” Tonks asked Remus.

He frowned, crow’s feet deepening around his warm eyes: “I taught at Hogwarts, for a year.”

Tonks said nothing, hoping he’d elaborate - but he didn’t, so eventually she prompted: “What did you teach?”

“Defence against the dark arts,” Remus replied. “Dumbledore hired me as a kindness, I’m afraid.”

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You’re being modest again - you know that wrong-foots me,” Tonks said, smiling as encouragingly as she could.

“Yeah it doesn’t actually make anyone feel more comfortable, Moony,” said Sirius, tipping his beer bottle upside down to catch the dregs.

“I am not,” Remus said sharply. “I’m not exactly employable, these days. As well you know, Sirius. Anyway, it was a privilege to teach Harry and his friends.”

“Is Harry good friends with the Weasleys?” Tonks asked.

“He and Ron are the best of friends - along with a very clever, bookish girl called Hermione. She’s staying here, too. I expect you’ll meet both of them at dinner,” said Remus, his hands lacing and unlacing uneasily around his beer bottle.

The ghost of a plan began to form in Tonks’s brain.

“Why on earth aren’t you employable, Remus?” Tonks asked. “You seem hard working and smart.”

“Oh he’s got this humble, bookish librarian thing going - I expect he thinks it will help him pick up,” Sirius said airily.

“We don’t all have your good looks and charm, Sirius,” said Remus.

“Yeah well, you’ve got no chance since I’ve spent fourteen years honing my charm in Azkaban. I’m so attractive that even the dementors seem willing to kiss me.”

Tonks and Remus were saved from having to respond to this bit of moroseness by the appearance in the doorway of a pale teenage girl, with a mass of shoulder-length brown hair, almost as wide as it was long.

“Mrs Weasley asked me to tell everyone that dinner’s ready,” the girl said to Remus, in a cut-glass English accent. She turned her gaze to Tonks. “Are you Tonks? I’m Hermione Granger. Mrs Weasley told me to make sure that you come to dinner. Apparently she’s worried that you’re too busy to cook, with a full time job as an _auror_ and lots of missions for the order.”

*****break*****

Tonks surprised herself by being pleased not to see Bill at dinner. She knew it would be easier to question the Weasleys about Harry’s family, without feeling self-conscious about what Bill might be thinking. Dinner was a delicious, classic fish pie - and the Weasley boys practically inhaled it. Tonks took this opportunity to talk to Hermione; the girl wasn’t nearly as unapproachable as she’d seemed at first, and was in fact very interested in the rigours of Auror training.

“I expect you need top marks in everything just to get in?” Hermione asked, in a businesslike tone.

“Officially, you need at least E grade NEWTs in the core subjects - you know, defence against the dark arts, obviously, potions-”

“Transfiguration and charms,” finished Hermione.

“Yep, and you need Herbology or History of magic. But unofficially, competition is so fierce that you need five solid Os in those subjects. And you need to be good on a broom.”

Hermione’s face fell.

“The academic prerequisites will be no trouble whatsoever for you, Hermione,” said Remus.

“Everyone finds some aspect of training really hard,” said Tonks. “For me, the worst part was was Stealth and Tracking, because I keep tripping over things. Anyway, I suppose you don’t share Harry’s famous love of Quidditch?”

“No,” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Flying isn’t my cup of tea.”

Tonks felt the moment slipping away, and seized it by its ankles: “Sirius told me Harry’s family aren’t very nice to him. Have you met them?”

Ron interjected with something indecipherable, thanks to a mouthful of fish pie. Hermione looked irritated and Molly scolded him for talking with his mouth full. Tonks didn’t care - she was too focused on Hermione’s answer.

“I haven’t met them, but yes they’re awful!” Hermione exclaimed. “Harry told me that they hid all his Hogwarts letters from him. He was practically a muggleborn, like me, and he had no idea that Hogwarts existed until Hagrid showed up to get him! Then, when he came back for the summer holidays, they kept him shut in his room until Ron, Fred and George rescued him, in an ill- er…anyway, they had to rescue him.”

“It’s alright Hermione,” said one of the twins cheekily. “Tonks can’t dob us in for the illegal flying car without admitting to hiding Sirius Black!”

Tonks really did laugh at that, and she was immediately regaled with the story of Fred, George and Ron flying an illegal car from their house to Privet Drive and back. Mrs Weasley chastised them all appropriately.

“Apparently, his Aunt was angry about the damage done to her flowerbeds and lawn,” Ron said with a yawn.

“Tonks, perhaps you could entertain us, like you did last time,” said Sirius suddenly.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” said Remus quickly. “They are still in school.”

Looking at the twins’ matching smirk and Mrs Weasley’s expression of alarm, Tonks suddenly had a strange feeling that they thought she’d been stripping.

“I’m a metamorphmagus,” said Tonks quickly.

“A what?” Ron asked.

Tonks theatrically hid her face behind her hands. When she emerged, she was the picture of Sirius Black. Ron screamed, causing his younger sister to howl with laughter and prod his shoulder. Tonks hastily changed her appearance back.

“They’ve been mentioned in History of Magic at least twice, Ronald,” said Hermione. “Metamorphmagi can change their appearance at will - that’s fascinating, it must be so useful!”

Tonks spent a pleasurable ten minutes cheerfully complying with various requests - yes, she could give herself a pig snout and yes, she could turn her hair Weasley red. Eventually, at Sirius’s urging, she grudgingly assumed Snape’s appearance. At Remus’s urging, she refrained from delivering the full impersonation that she’d done a few nights prior. 

When she arrived back at her flat, she began working on her plan.

****break****

The following morning, she owled Mad Eye a cryptic note - _Think I have solved the problem of how to get my Great Aunt out of the house more. I’m taking her to the Grand Herbology Centre to see the Giant Venemous Tentacula, would you like to come too?_ \- and arrived at work early, determined to catch up with her increasing stack of parchment. She took a couple of ten minute breaks in order to maintain her focus, but no lunch break. However, it appeared that Dawlish had noticed that she was one of the few aurors still hunched at her desk during lunch, because he appeared at her desk at half past one.

“No lunch today, Tonks?” Dawlish asked, raising a bushy, greying eyebrow.

“No sir, I’m just a little behind on some reports,” said Tonks amicably.

“Yes, I noticed you leaving really quite early last night. And a _little_ early the night before. Everything’s alright at home, I presume?” Dawlish’s voice suggested the right answer to that question quite plainly.

“Yes,” said Tonks, truthfully; and then, untruthfully: “I’ve just been a tiny bit under the weather, but I’m all cleared up now.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Remember, being an auror isn’t for everyone - it’s not a job for the distracted, or the faint-hearted.” With that, Dawlish disappeared.

_Fuck_.

She almost said the word out loud when Kingsley appeared before six. Instead, she opted for a jovial, if quiet: “Bit early boss.”

“You’re not on guard duty tonight, Tonks. I’ve replaced you,” said Kingsley; seeing her face fall he added: “Mad Eye assumed you’d volunteer for his…little job. I’ve swapped both of our shifts.”

She had been excited to start guard duty with Kingsley that evening, but she was more excited to retrieve Harry Potter from the Dursleys. Still, it was painfully early.

“Do I have to leave now?” Tonks asked.

“Within half an hour,” said Kingsley sympathetically. “I’m leaving now. Oh, bring your broom!”

*****break*****

She arrived at Grimmauld Place ten minutes later than Kingsley’s deadline, not daring to leave the Ministry before half past six. Already assembled in the kitchen were Emmeline, Hestia, Remus, Sirius, Kingsley, a young, blond, muscular man with a square jaw, a very old man with white hair and a very small man in a purple top hat.

“Good of you to join us, Tonks,” grunted Mad Eye. “We were just discussing how to get Potter’s folks out of the way. I understand you had an idea - not that I should necessarily listen to a recruit who swans in forty minutes late."

Mad Eye wasn’t happy - he’d have preferred her there at six. If Dawlish saw her empty desk, he wouldn’t be happy - he’d have preferred her _there_ until eight.

“I’m really sorry, Mad Eye. Dawlish told me off for leaving early yesterday-”

“NOTHING is more important than POTTER’S SAFETY!” Mad Eye thundered, and Tonks bit back a retort about his status as a retiree, whom the Ministry supplied with contract work.

“Which we cannot assure without eyes and ears in the Auror Office, Mad Eye. She’s here now,” said Remus in a bright, conciliatory tone. It must have worked, because Mad Eye didn’t shout at him.

Tonks waited for Mad Eye to look away, then gave Remus a grateful smile and a wink.

“I saw that,” muttered Mad Eye. And then to Tonks: “Don’t be late for this particular job again.”

They spent the next half an hour devising a rough flight plan. Mad Eye informed them this would change on the day; this was to be expected in the ordinary course of things, because the most suitable flight path would always be weather-dependent. However, Tonks knew that Mad Eye thought flight plans were a liability, and he would probably want to change course a few times, in order to shake off a (hopefully non-existent) tail.

“Any empty, big rooms here?” Mad Eye asked. “With a high ceiling!”

“Yes, there’s something upstairs that looks used to be a kind of _ballroom_ ,” said Sirius, emphasising the ridiculousness of the last word.

Tonks was confused, until Mad Eye said: “gather your brooms and let’s go!”

Sirius, Remus and Tonks exchanged looks of great amusement.

Once in the dusty, cob-web-filled, chizpurfle-infested ballroom, Mad Eye divided them into pairs: “Hestia with Sturgis, Kingsley with Doge, Emmeline with Diggle and, since you two seem to have joined forced against me, Lupin and Tonks.”

Everyone stood next to their assigned partner, a broom in hand and expressions varying from trepidation to barely contained amusement on their faces.

“I’d pay to see Snape join in with this one,” Sirius said.

“I heard that, Sirius! You know what, boy - you’re going to help me. Come here.”

Sirius ambled over to Mad Eye, smirking openly.

Mad Eye’s instructions did not inspire confidence: “One of you is going to be Harry, the other is going to be his guard. Sirius and I are going to attempt to stun ‘Harry’. Chance for you to avenge yourself, Sirius!”

“But Mad Eye,” said Tonks, “all of us can do shield charms, so won’t it be a fairly quick exercise?”

“The ‘Harry’ won’t have a wand,” Mad Eye said, smiling. “And Sirius and I will both try to stun ‘Harry’ from opposite sides of the room. If the guard concentrates on blocking me, Sirius will get ‘Harry’."

Remus grimaced and hastily cushion-charmed the floor. Mad Eye protested that a real attack would happen tens or even hundreds of feet in the air, but Tonks speedily interjected, saying that a concussion would not make anyone a better guardian of the real Harry in a few days’ time.

Unsurprisingly, she and Remus were first to go - and she was designated ‘Harry’. She hovered her solid, stable Comet broom about six feet in the air, and Remus followed suit (seated on a heap-of-shit broom that she strongly suspected was older than her). Remus was on her left. Mad Eye was to his left. Sirius was on her unguarded right side. She was without a wand.

This was a classic Mad Eye training session - it could almost be straight from one of his auror bootcamps. It was significantly harder than the real thing would be, if not actually designed to be impossible. In real life, Harry would be guarded on all sides and any pursuing Death Eaters would be also mounted on brooms, not poised to duel on solid ground (Mad Eye) or lounging against a wall (Sirius).

Regardless, the exercise’s impossibility meant that it would all be over soon. She concentrated on relaxing her shoulders and preparing fall lightly. R _emember to tuck your head in and fold your arms across your chest when you fall,_ she told herself. It wouldn’t help much if she was stupefied, because she’d be unconscious before she hit the ground, but sometimes you got a sense for these things and tucked your head in the instant before the curse hit.

Mad Eye spoke: “Alright, Sirius, get ready. Three, two -”

A jet of red light issued from Mad Eye’s wand as he cast a nonverbal stunning spell before he got to ‘one’. _Bastard._

Remus hadn’t been expecting Mad Eye to pull that trick, and his hasty shield charm was weak enough to be pierced by the curse. She dropped her shoulder and sloth-rolled, pleased to see Mad Eye’s curse miss her and rebound off the wall, forcing Emmeline to block the weakened ricochet. Sirius did not seem eager to attack the undefended side of a wandless witch hovering on a broomstick, ducking curses aimed by the greatest auror of all time.

“Very gallant of you Sirius, but they’ll need all the practice they can get if they’re going to keep your godson alive!” Mad Eye growled.

In spite of herself, Tonks grinned at the ridiculousness of it all - and the shocked faces of her fellow Order members (only Emmeline and Kingsley had any prior experience of Mad Eye’s auror training sessions). Mad Eye was essentially engaged in a full practice duel with Remus. Sirius decided to put in an earnest effort, and opted for the full body bind curse. Fortunately, he was not able to cast it non-verbally and the curse had a rather long incantation - _petrificus totalus -_ which gave her time to roll out of the way before he fired.

She had not expected the exercise to last so long - actually, she had expected to cop stunning spells from both Mad Eye and Sirius simultaneously and almost immediately. Remus exceeded her expectations - he looked tired and slightly undernourished, but he had excellent reflexes. Not many people could hold their own against Mad Eye, while hovering on a (heap-of-shit) broom.

She focused all of her attention on dodging Sirius’s shots while Remus dealt with Mad Eye. Mad Eye’s was knocked down when his curse rebounded off Remus’s shield charm. Remus used this opportunity to hit Mad Eye with a knock-back, and Mad Eye slid into the wall. Sirius had now graduated to the serious stuff - as he bellowed “Stupefy,” Remus took it upon himself to send back a nonverbal disarmer, which hit its mark perfectly and sent Sirius’s wand soaring out of his hand.

Unfortunately, Mad Eye had feigned the extent to which he had been disabled by Remus’s knock-back jinx. He was now aiming upwards, in pole position to take Tonks out. Less than a fragment of a second before the curse made contact, she tucked her head in.

Tonks came round to the sound of a quiet voice murmuring ‘renervate.’ She was slouched against a wall in the corridor, with an ice pack on her shoulder and a concerned Remus staring at her with wide, muddy-green eyes.

“It’s Wednesday. The year is 1995. My name is Tonks,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards into an amused smile as she noted the intense relief on his face. “Not concussed - thanks to you casting that cushioning charm before we started.”

“I’ve already checked and your shoulder isn’t broken,” said Remus. “That’s what you fell on - not your head, like I would have expected.”

_Good to see I can do something right._

“Remus, I’m fine. This was every third day at bootcamp - and there were no cushioning charms, nor charming librarians on hand to _renervate_ me,” said Tonks, slightly amused by his fussing. “What have I missed?”

“Well, Kingsley and Elphias - that’s Elphias Doge, the…er…older man - went right after us, and I believe they’re still going,” said Remus. “Kingsley is truly an excellent duellist - and that trick of ‘three, two, stupefy’ only works once, so he had a strong shield charm up before Mad Eye had finished saying ‘three’.”

“Let’s spectate!” Tonks said, jumping up and then clutching Remus for support as large, blinding white spots obscured her vision. There was nothing wrong with her sense of touch, though, because he noticed he had pleasantly warm, sinewy biceps. She apologised and let go of his shoulders laughingly.

He offered her an arm, which she accepted and clutched for a couple of steps, but dropped before they reached the open door into the ballroom. She couldn’t afford to look weak in front of the Order.

Elphias Doge and Kingsley had finished by the time they arrived. She was not surprised to see that Elphias was upright and walking - Mad Eye appeared to have been talked into replacing the stunning curse with the Ministry-approved marking curse, which created an entirely painless, harmless, very intricate purple flower-bullseye wherever it made contact. The intricacy of the mark was not an accident - more difficult spells took more energy to cast, and the stunning spell was harder than most other spells used in non-lethal duelling. In order to properly replace the stunning spell, the marking spell had to require the same amount of mental effort. There was a splendid, swirling purple rose of a bullseye squarely in the middle of Doge’s chest. Tonks knew from experience that it would fade shortly.

Tonks hastily retrieved her wand from the pile behind Mad Eye, before she and Remus took their places next to the other pairs waiting to go.

“Of course he’ll only stupefy his aurors,” Sirius said to Tonks and Remus, rather fondly. “And I’ll only stupefy the under thirty fives. The stunning spell is much too risky at our age, Moony.”

Hestia (guardian) and the blond wizard Sturgis (Harry) were next to go. The pair lasted longer than Tonks had anticipated. Though her reflexes and jinxes left quite a bit to be desired, Hestia’s shield charm was outstanding - in terms of both strength and circumference. She seemed like a novice duellist, so Tonks suspected that she probably had a real, innate knack for shield charms. If she did, it would serve her fantastically in the coming war.

With the full body bind upon him from Sirius, Sturgis fell to the floor with a muted thud. Sirius muttered the counter-curse, and Sturgis got to his feet, rubbing his hip slightly.

Emmeline and Dedalus Diggle - the small man in the purple top hat, which he’d hastily removed for the occasion - went next. Emmeline, Tonks knew, had failed Auror training almost twenty years ago. But, unlike everyone except for Tonks and Kingsley, Emmeline had actually attended Auror training.

Tonks could not see why Emmeline had failed, and had to conclude that it wasn’t due to her duelling. She was probably the equal of Remus. But eventually, protecting Diggle from curses at point-blank range from both sides grew too much for her, and after copping an exceptionally nasty stinging hex to the ear, she lost concentration long enough for Mad Eye’s marking spell to hit Diggle.

“Alright, now that’s over with - swap!” Mad Eye announced imperiously.

Remus looked affronted, perhaps expecting that they wouldn’t have to swap roles, or that Tonks (the only person at whom stunners had been fired) might be exempt. Tonks knew Mad Eye, so she knew better than to expect that she wouldn’t have to participate again.

“I’ll just deal with Mad Eye,” Tonks whispered to Remus. “You focus on dodging Sirius.”

They took their positions in the air.

“STUPEFY,” roared Mad Eye, without the preamble of a countdown.

The curse rebounded off her shield charm, and Mad Eye had to duck it. Then Tonks had to duck a stinging hex that flew from Sirius, past a dodging Remus, and toward her neck.

Tonks moved in for a full body bind; Mad Eye caught it at the last second and reversed it - she ducked just in time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius take aim, with a glint in his eye.

“Roll right,” hissed Tonks, as she also rolled right and both she and remus were upside down under their brooms, as two _stupefies_ flew about a foot above those same brooms. Before she had righted herself, she threw a full body bind at Mad Eye, who jumped out of the way at the last second. She stalled for time, intending just to cast shields. No more curses with him so close - he knew her tells and would have a shield up before she finished casting. But she knew his, too. There was a lengthy stalemate.

Remus shoved her shoulder, and she realised that Sirius’d finally had the bright idea of taking her out, instead of the wandless Remus. The stalemate broke, and Mad Eye fired off a nasty _Tarantallegra_ , or dancing leg curse, which Tonks only just blocked in time. Mad Eye took the opportunity to fire off a brilliant stunning spell, which not even her best shield charm could fully contain, but Remus moved out of the way. The floorboards of the ballroom had warped with heat and Tonks sat poised for Mad Eye’s next move.

Mad Eye cast a second stunner, and it took all her effort to resist it. That’s when Sirius’s jelly-fingers jinx - a schoolyard prank, really - hit her wand hand. With no muscle control left in her hand, she dropped her wand instantly. They both rolled right, out from under a stunner. On the way back up, Mad Eye was gracious enough to hit Remus with the marking curse.

“BANG!” Mad Eye shouted at Tonks. “HARRY IS DEAD!”

*****break*****

Tonks knew Mad Eye had been a lot harder on her than on anyone else - which meant that he might be receptive to her idea for how to lure Harry’s family away. She loitered behind after the training session, until everyone except Kingsley and Sirius had gone.

“Mad Eye,” said Tonks cheerfully. “Now that you’ve stunned me, are you ready to hear my plan for distracting Harry’s family?”

Mad Eye smiled slightly.

“I got the idea from Hogwarts letters - Hermione told me that Harry thought the letter was a prank. And she also told me that his Aunt and Uncle are very proud of their garden,” said Tonks, beaming.

Despite himself, Mad Eye was intrigued: “go on.”

“We should send them an official looking letter - by muggle post, obviously - telling them that they’ve been listed for a surprise garden award. They’ll believe it, because their garden is so well-maintained,” said Tonks. “Half my family are muggles, I know how to use the post. If you know the address, we can send it by priority mail tomorrow morning.”

“That oughta work. You are one of my better recruits,” Mad Eye said gruffly.

“Tonks, a word,” said Kingsley, briskly. “Bill has left for Tibet; he’ll lay a false trail to indicate that Sirius Black has taken shelter there. However, until I tell you otherwise, you are to claim to believe Sirius is in Chechnya.”

*****break*****

On Thursday, Tonks arrived at the Auror Office as early as decently possible. She had an hour until people began trickling in. She would make a dent in her ‘to do’ list. Suddenly the Head of the Auror Office - one Rufus Scrimgeour - appeared over her cubicle divider.

“Sir!” Tonks spluttered. “What can I do for you?”

She’d had very little interaction with Scrimgeour; he was the big boss and she was the most junior auror.

“You’re involved with the mission to locate Sirus Black, aren’t you Tookes?” Scrimgeour asked, his enormous tawny eyebrows knitting.

“Yes, sir. Most junior auror,” said Tonks.

“Listen, Tookes,” Scrimgeour said conspiratorially. “Sometimes I think it’s good to hear things from the juniors’ perspectives. So, what are your thoughts on how Shacklebolt is heading up the investigation?”

“Oh, I think he must be very thorough, sir,” said Tonks. “He’s a good boss - firm but fair.”

“But do you really believe Black is in Chechnya?” Scrimgeour asked. “Despite having no family there?”

“Yes, our intelligence is pretty good, sir. I don’t think Black would see Britain as home. I think he’s searching for his master, abroad. Black deserted his family back when he was at Hogwarts - even though he came round to their way of thinking, that split can’t have been easy to repair,” said Tonks. “Anyway, Kingsley’s the best person to talk to about Chechen intel.”


	7. Trials and Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tonks, are you staying?” Remus’s soft whisper - very close to her ear - made her jump and send the troll leg umbrella stand clattering to the ground, awakening Mrs Black’s portrait. Apologising profusely and cursing herself, she looked up to see Remus and Sirius tugging the curtains shut.
> 
> ***
> 
> The fact of Remus's monk-like isolation had been violently driven home by the contrast between Molly’s boggart - the members of her big, loving family all dead - and his own lonely full moon boggart.

Chapter Seven - Trials and Tribulations

Saturday afternoon was warm and hazy and Tonks would have felt drowsy, were it not for the excitement of the Harry Potter mission. She decided to arrive a few hours early and left her flat for Grimmauld place at lunchtime. She was hoping to catch Kingsley and tell him about her conversation with Scrimgeour - and to get lunch, courtesy of Molly Weasley.

As luck would have it, when Tonks arrived Kingsley and Molly were already in the kitchen, eating ploughman’s sandwiches.

Molly beamed at Tonks and gestured to the spread of sandwich ingredients on the table. “Help yourself, dear - there’s plenty of mustard and salami left!”

Tonks fixed herself some lunch while she told Kingsley about Scrimgeour’s interest in the Black investigation’s (lack of) progress.

“He definitely suspects something,” said Kingsley, putting his sandwich down on his plate. “He caught me a few times while I was on guard duty, and I had to make something up.”

“Maybe we should take you off guard duty for a bit, until Scrimgeour stops suspecting you?” Tonks asked.

“The trouble is, we don’t have nearly enough ministry employees in the Order - there’s only you, me, Arthur - and Mad Eye at a push,” said Kingsley. “We’ll just have to be more careful. And the sooner the Ministry accepts that Voldemort is back, the better. Once we start bringing in real Death Eaters, one of them is bound to let slip the fact that Black has never been one.”

At that moment, Remus appeared and glanced at the room in a manner that, had it not been Remus, Tonks would have described as furtive. He said something about making himself a tea, and drifted over to the sink. With a meaningful glance at Remus, Molly left the kitchen. Kingsley followed shortly afterwards.

Remus looked very sheepish, but said nothing. Tonks wondered why Molly and Kingsley had been so keen to leave them alone together.

“Are you alright?” Tonks asked, eager to break the silence.

“I owe you an apology,” said Remus quietly, looking down at the sink and failing to meet her eyes. “This has gone on for far too long, and I must take full responsibility. I’ve deliberately kept something from you - something that the rest of the order knows.”

Tonks felt this was ominous; she wished he’d curtail the _mea culpa_ speech and get to the point.

Remus placed his hands flat on the kitchen bench and continued with what Tonks suspected was a prepared (or semi-prepared) monologue: “I promise I never meant to deceive you - there wasn’t a convenient time to tell you on our first mission and I must confess I…I enjoyed pretending to be normal. But Harry will be here soon, and even he knows, so I-”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” Tonks asked impatiently. Uneasiness caused her to snap more than she’d meant to, and she noticed that he looked a little pained.

“Remember the chronic health condition that I mentioned?” Remus asked quietly. He looked at her, and she thought she saw his jaw clench. “It’s lycanthropy. I am a werewolf,” Remus finished, smiling mirthlessly and leaning on his hands.

Tonks started slightly, and hoped she’d hidden it. From the sudden creasing around Remus’s eyes, she suspected she hadn’t.

“Oh. Oh that’s why you only taught for a year,” Tonks said, as much to herself as to him. “And why you’re unemployed. I couldn’t believe you were unemployed at first - you seemed like the ideal employee for just about anyone, frankly. I thought Dumbledore must have you doing something top secret.”

“Yes, I deliberately gave the impression that I couldn’t talk about my work - but that was only to save myself the humiliation of admitting that I didn’t have anything to talk about,” said Remus, quite bitterly. “I am sorry. Order members must be able to trust each other, and I have been dishonest.”

“Well, you never actually lied,” said Tonks gently. She was trying to decide how to approach this revelation. Transformed werewolves were incredibly dangerous, and there were reports that even in their human form, werewolves were more likely than other wizards to commit acts of savage brutality. On the other hand, very few werewolves chose to become one - they were victims of werewolf attacks themselves. Dumbledore, Kingsley and Mad Eye trusted Remus. Remus impressed her as mild-mannered, kind and helpful.

“Remus, you really should have come clean earlier,” said Tonks, at last. “You say the entire Order knows? And the Weasley children?”

Remus nodded miserably.

“Do you reckon they know I don’t?” Tonks asked.

“Probably not,” said Remus quickly.

She saw he was leaning even more on his hands, which were oddly red (with white wrists) and flat to the bench top. He really did look very guilty.

“Remus, it’s really not that bad. My main concern is being in the dark for so long. So…please no more big secrets?” Tonks asked.

Remus winced. “Of course, Nym-Tonks.”

Mad Eye and the other Order members involved in the mission - which Mad Eye had nicknamed “The Advance Guard”, in contrast to the “Rear Guard” who were on standby above Wembley - had all arrived by 3pm.

Tonks was able to confirm, thanks to a magical trace on the envelope, that Harry’s Aunt and Uncle had received and opened the letter she’d sent via muggle post. All that remained was to hope they’d actually attend the (entirely fictitious) prize giving for the “All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.”

“The letter told them to arrive at the ‘prize giving’ at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew at half eight. It’s a forty minute drive in a muggle car from their place to Kew - I checked. That should mean they’re well and truly out of the way by eight,” said Tonks. “According to my muggleborn dad, muggles live in fear of being delayed by something called ‘traffic.’”

“Alright, we’ll hover high above privet drive on our brooms from quarter to eight, and watch and wait. Sunset is at eight. We don’t want to leave with Harry before eight, we’ll need some darkness to take off from Privet Drive,” said Mad Eye.

They passed the next hour and a half running through the flight plan and telling Mad Eye that they probably weren’t going to meet Death Eaters in the skies over Surrey. He did not seem reassured.

****break****

They all sat on brooms, as high above Privet Drive as they could reasonably tolerate - high up enough to be shielded from view by the haze of pollution that settled around the greater London area. The sky was nearly cloudless, much to Mad Eye’s annoyance, and turning murky orange. The heat from the day had dissipated. Mad Eye’s magical eye enabled him to keep watch on Privet Drive. Tonks rubbed her hands together to warm them.

“Advance Guard! They’re leaving!” Mad Eye announced. “Let’s go.”

They circled and, one by one, descended sharply. Once on the (not-prize-winning) lawn, they made their way into the house with the help of a quick unlocking charm. The house was dark, but mercifully free from troll leg umbrella stands and other hazards. They searched the kitchen first, and Tonks managed to break a plate. Mad Eye’s magical eye found Harry upstairs and he cast an unlocking charm on Harry’s bedroom door.

After they greeted Harry and explained why they were there, Tonks decided to follow him upstairs to help him pack. She noticed the house was frightfully clean, and was reminded of her mother. She was also pleased that Harry was impressed by her job title - she liked to think she wasn’t too vain, but having a widely-respected job was important to her. She felt she was often dismissed on the basis of her sex, and it was nice to have an “I’m at least a bit smart and tough - and I can prove it” trump card in the form of “I’m an auror.”

Harry was very interested in her metamorphmagus abilities, and for the first time she truly appreciated how frustrating it must be to be fifteen and incredibly famous for something you hadn’t chosen. Harry hadn’t asked to be loved - nor slandered in the _Prophet_ \- and she realised she’d taken for granted the safety blanket of being able to disguise herself as a stranger for a day.

Tonks’s broom was the most stable, and she was fit from auror training, so she lashed Harry’s trunk and owl to her own broom. Mad Eye reiterated the contingency plan should everyone except Harry die, and Tonks and Kingsley reassured Harry that the chances of everyone dying were slim. They set off promptly, Mad Eye insisting on flying at a higher altitude than the one they’d held on the way there. It was freezing and Tonks wished she was wearing her all-weather gloves. She looked over at Remus and saw he was slightly blue.

Emmeline signalled that she was going to check behind the embankment of cloud up ahead. Tonks dropped altitude in order to cover the group from below. She was more relieved than she cared to admit when the older witch swooped back towards the group, her lit wand held in front of her. On the ground, Mad Eye’s contingency plans had seemed ridiculous - in the freezing night air, the prospect of attack by Death Eaters didn’t seem so far-fetched.

However, when Mad Eye said that they would double back to shake off any undetected tail, Tonks lost it.

“ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE!” Tonks shouted.

They were so nearly at Grimmauld Place, she was freezing cold and she knew that if she was suffering, old Elphias Doge would be near losing consciousness.

Remus jumped to her rescue, telling her and Harry to start descending. Mad Eye grumbled at both of them, but must have been feeling the cold, too, because he also began to descend.

*****break*****

Once in the warmth of Grimmauld place, Tonks and the rest of the “Advance Guard” filed into the kitchen to join the evening’s Order meeting. Bill had returned from Tibet and reported that his polyjuice Sirius had been sighted by a large group of Tibetan wizards. Tonks smiled and waved at Bill; he returned the wave awkwardly.

“He’s not a child!” Sirius’s shout snapped her out of her Bill-related musings. “Since he turned eleven, Harry’s faced Voldemort three times, if you count that diary! He drove off tens of dementors the night that I was very nearly relieved of my soul!”

Molly protested that Harry was _younger_ than her son Ron, and that he should be allowed to be a normal teenager - to which Sirius replied that what he ‘should be’ was beside the point, because what he ‘was’ was the prophesied downfall of Voldemort. Snape watched the show with a sneer curling his top lip. Arthur Weasley patted his wife’s arm and suggested that they eat dinner before making any final decision. This seemed to work, as Sirius and Molly ceased hostilities.

Tonks was unsurprised to see dungbombs in the hallway outside the door. She suspected that Ginny Weasley, who’d previously asked her (in an entirely too-innocent voice) how one could spot an imperturbable charm had been throwing them at the door in order to work out whether or not her mother had imperturbed it - which she had.

She padded out into the hallway and considered leaving before dinner. She liked the dinners at Grimmauld Place, but playing double agent for a week had left her quite tired.

“Tonks, are you staying?” Remus’s soft whisper - very close to her ear - made her jump and send the troll leg umbrella stand clattering to the ground, awakening Mrs Black’s portrait. Apologising profusely and cursing herself, she looked up to see Remus and Sirius tugging the curtains shut; she was quickly reminded of her first visit to Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley spoke more sharply to Tonks than she ever had before, which Tonks chalked up to her argument with Sirius during the meeting.

Fortunately, Molly’s ire was soon redirected at her sons. Fred and George made the unwise decision to bewitch the breadboard and breadknife to fly at the dining table, nearly stabbing Sirius in the process. Bill ended up playing peacemaker between his relatives, so Tonks took a seat next to Remus. She felt very awkward around Bill, which was entirely new. Their affair in Egypt ended amicably enough, and she’d never felt the desire to avoid him before. But she’d noticed the strange, furtive glances he was giving her, so when he and Remus started discussing Goblin politics Tonks decided not to join in. Instead, she entertained Hermione and Ginny with various classic morphing tricks - Snape nose, hairy nostrils, pig snout - all while listening in on Bill’s conversation.

The week’s lack of sleep soon caught up with Tonks and she yawned widely, which Molly used it as a pretext to suggest that the teenagers should go to bed. Unsurprisingly, Sirius disagreed and began arguing with Harry about the latter’s adolescent disinterest in Order affairs.

“Not just yet, Molly,” said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. “You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.”

Harry was affronted by the suggestion that he didn’t care about the Order’s resistance efforts. Almost immediately, Sirius, Molly and Harry then began arguing over how much information Harry should be given about the Order’s activities. Fred and George took Sirius’s side, and began (rather cruelly, Tonks thought) mocking their mother. Remus stepped in to play peacemaker, and Tonks was both impressed and surprised when he managed to get them all to stop shouting.

She knew Remus was a good mediator, but Sirius’s pent-up frustration at being told to stay indoors - and Molly’s constant exhaustion from keeping her rash, reckless family alive and doing the lion’s share of the unnoticed admin and organising for the Order meetings - had reached boiling point. The argument wasn’t just about Harry anymore, it was also about Sirius’s and Molly’s personality clash. Sirius, quite fairly, found Molly overbearing, interfering and nagging. Molly, quite fairly, was exhausted by both Sirius’s and her menfolk’s constant reckless glory-seeking and contempt for boring, everyday work that no one admired or respected, but which still had to be done. Tonks knew perfectly well that were it not for Molly’s nagging, Grimmauld Place would be just as infested with doxies and bogarts as it had been two months ago, the minutes of each Order meeting would never have been taken, at least one of the twins would probably be killed in a stupid accident and the entire household would live on Leaky Cauldron fare.

Eventually, Remus negotiated a compromise: Harry should be given the bare minimum of information about the Order. Like most compromises, it suited neither warring party and both Molly and Sirius remained angry. However, as Harry’s questions continued, Tonks came round to Sirius’s side. Locked up in a muggle house for the whole summer had insulated Harry from the current political climate to an unacceptable degree - he didn’t even know that the Ministry were still strongly denying Voldemort’s rebirth.

Harry asked why the Order weren’t warning people about Voldemort. Remus remarked that as a werewolf, he had no social standing and couldn’t convince anyone of anything - the last of Tonks’s irritation with him for keeping his condition a secret vanished. The poor man just wanted to seem _normal_ and she could hardly blame him for that. Eventually, Remus interrupted the conversation and suggested that Harry had been told enough.

Sirius asked her to stay for butterbeers. She was sorely tempted, it being a Saturday night, but when Bill accepted Sirius’s invitation, she realised she would be the only woman. Normally, that wasn’t a problem for her - the auror office was male-dominated, anyway. However, she found herself exhausted at the prospect of having to socialise with three men (she always thought that men seldom said what they were really thinking, and instead spoke cryptically and expected her to read their minds). She excused herself, but considered returning when she saw Hestia tiptoeing through the hallway and discovered that the other witch was going to join Bill, Remus and Sirius. However, tiredness got the better of her and she left Grimmauld Place, gratefully disapparating on the top step.

*****break*****

Remus found himself disappointed by Tonks’s departure and he felt a flicker of irritation with Sirius - if he hadn’t thrown that tantrum back in the kitchen, she might have stayed. _Then again_ , he reminded himself, _if you’d told her you were a werewolf when you first met her, she also might have stayed_.

Almost the moment Tonks left the room, Hestia appeared. She wore a low-necked blue top - a neckline that Remus carefully avoided looking at, once he’d registered just _how_ low it was. Such were the perils of being a borderline-celibate werewolf! As Remus handed Hestia a beer ( _look at her face, look at her face_ ) he noticed that her deep brown eyes shone and she was even more flushed than usual. Remus strongly suspected that Hestia would not be there had he, instead of Sirius, asked her to join them. After all, she hadn’t stayed for dinner and she certainly hadn’t worn _that_ top on the flight to Privet Drive. She must have gone home, dressed up for Sirius’s benefit, and then returned to Grimmauld Place.

Fred and George tried to join the party, but Molly appeared from nowhere and shouted so furiously that Remus and Sirius almost begged the boys to go back to bed.

“This isn’t a pub!” Molly hissed, once the twins were out of earshot. “It’s a family home ad I’d thank you not to get drunk-”

“Yes, Molly, it’s my family home,” Sirius said testily. “And in case you’d forgotten, popping down to the Leaky Cauldron isn’t an option for me. Although I suppose I could always go as Padfoot…”

This threat had the desired effect and Molly relented, though she piously declined Sirius’s offer to join them. Remus strongly suspected the offer would not have been made if Sirius had even the slightest suspicion that Molly would accept.

Remus noted Hestia hadn’t touched her beer, and offered her a glass of wine. He busied himself playing waiter while the others talked.

“I became an animagus for Moony here,” Sirius told the two younger Order members. “Werewolves are only dangerous to humans, so Harry’s father and I decided to fix that little species issue.”

Hestia laughed and Bill looked impressed.

“Animagus transformations are some of the hardest magic out there. How old were you when you did it?” Bill asked, impressed.

“Oh, fifth year - the year that Harry and Ron are going into,” said Sirius, airily. Remus knew this statement was not remotely casual, and (though true) it was calculated to impress.

Remus handed Hestia her wine, then opened a beer for himself.

“You three must have been such close friends,” Hestia said, clearly making an effort to include Remus in the conversation.

Remus was not sure he wanted to be included, but scolded himself for sulking.

“They were the truest friends anyone could have hoped for,” said Remus. He’d intended the statement to be cheerful, but it sounded like a eulogy.

Neither he nor Sirius mentioned Pettigrew.

The conversation turned - at Sirius’s urging - to dating. Remus suspected that Bill and Hestia had been carefully avoiding this topic, believing that it would be sensitive for a werewolf and a fugitive.

“I was dating someone a little bit,” said Hestia, draining her glass. “But I think we’ve fizzled out. We didn’t click and he hasn’t asked to see me again.”

“I find that hard to believe,” said Sirius, looking straight at Hestia. Remus inwardly rolled his eyes, and busied himself finding Bill another beer and topping up Hestia’s glass.

“Where’s mine, Moony?” Sirius smiled.

“You can get your own, _Sire_ ,” said Remus sarcastically. “I only wait on guests.”

“Alright, but you’re having one of whatever I get,” said Sirius. He returned with a bottle of firewhiskey and four shot glasses.

Bill gave a low whistle. “Getting on it, I see.”

“Drink up, kids,” said Sirius, smirking slightly as he poured out four firewhiskeys.

Remus reached for his gratefully. He generally tried to avoid getting drunk, but decided that he could afford to aim for “quite tipsy.”

In an effort to get them to move on from dating, Remus asked Bill about how the Egyptian branches of Gringotts operated. Bill also seemed glad of the change of subject - a fact which slightly surprised Remus, because Bill was handsome and clearly knew it - and eagerly launched into an exposition on Egyptian wizard-goblin relations. He finished his beer, and Sirius pressed a firewhiskey on him before pouring Remus another shot. In surprisingly little time, all four were quite drunk.

“So - have any affairs with beautiful Egyptian witches, Bill?” Sirius asked

Bill laughed awkwardly, and said there was a slightly older local witch - a sphinx expert, who reminded him little of Charlie (“but no, not like _that!_ Of course I don’t fancy my brother, Sirius - who’s Freud?”). Bill began to mention another woman - also English, and in Egypt for work - but broke off and blushed.

Hestia’s wide mouth broke into a rather lascivious grin and she raised an eyebrow. For a moment, Remus wondered if Sirius had inadvertently played matchmaker to Hestia and Bill.

“Go on, Bill,” said Hestia, in a mock-innocent tone. “This lovely young Englishwoman - what did she do for work.”

Bill smiled guiltily and said “er…something for the Ministry.”

“She wasn’t an auror, was she?” Hestia asked innocently.

“She was,” said Bill hurriedly.

Sirius and Remus waited on tenterhooks.

“She wasn’t the pink-haired auror I saw you kissing on the doorstep early last week, was she?” Hestia asked, in the overly-casual tone of someone dropping a bomb.

“My cousin!” Sirius exclaimed, eagerly throwing back his firewhiskey. “Amazing!”

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s going to come to anything,” Bill said. Then he winced. “I mean, we had a relationship a couple of years ago, but it petered out. I like her, she’s great. But I’ve been seeing a girl at work, and we’re probably going to get serious.…the thing with Nymph - er - Tonks is that….we…oh, can we talk about something else?”

Bill had flushed very pink - a colour,Remus noted uncharitably, that looked even more ridiculous on redheads. Remus promptly reprimanded himself for his churlishness - it wasn’t Bill’s fault that he was young and handsome with a glamorous job, nor that lots of women were interested in him. It certainly wasn’t Tonks’s fault - or this other mystery Gringotts girl’s fault - that they were attracted to a good-looking curse-breaker.

“Not if you’ve been breaking my cousin’s heart, mate,” said Sirius in a tone of mock outrage.

“I definitely haven’t,” said Bill. “It was casual - and anyway, I believe she’s got one or two aurors on the go. A friend of mine works in the auror office, and says there’s a long-standing flirtation between Tonks and one Hugo Proudfoot.”

Remus struggled to understand how the younger generations could so easily roll with the punches of one night stands casual flings. He’d had a few of these himself, but never in preference to a serious relationship.

“‘Hugo Proudfoot’ sounds like a tosser,” announced Sirius, and Remus smiled slightly.

“Yes,” agreed Bill. “Good looking young chap - very built and usually seen wearing tight shirts. Prime tosser.”

Whether or not that statement was true - and Remus rather suspected it was - it worked to break the tension between Sirius and Bill.

“Still no one, Moony?” Sirius asked teasingly.

Remus swallowed a rising bubble of anger.

“Unsurprisingly, no,” said Remus.

“Just because you’re a werewolf?” Asked a slightly drunk Hestia.

“It’s not a small thing, Hestia. If I were to have a normal relationship with a woman, she’d be exposed to danger every full moon. She would also be shunned from polite society and constantly suspected of being an unregistered werewolf herself,” said Remus quietly.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” said Hestia. “But…er…well, there are werewolf women, aren’t there?”

This was an entirely reasonable response, Remus reflected, but something of a sensitive area. He’d had a few relationships with female werewolves before, but they inevitably dissolved when he wanted to return to mainstream wizard society and she did not.

“Hestia, most werewolves don’t want anything to do with mainstream wizard society - in fact, almost none attended school and many don’t even have wands. They live in groups on the fringes of society. I must always choose between her and life in the wizarding world,” said Remus quietly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so nosy,” Hestia said quickly.

Remus waved away Hestia’s apology, telling her that such curiosity was entirely normal.

*****break*****

The following Wednesday, St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries issued an urgent request for aurors to attend a rural location. Tonks, Proudfoot and Dawlish were available, and promptly apparated to the perimeter fence of a farm in Yorkshire. A wizard around Tonks’s age had found his nineteen year old brother unconscious in the shearing shed. St Mungo’s emergency department required an auror escort, because there were clear signs of dark magic - the ground around the unconscious man was scorched in a perfect ring, indicating a duel, and his spine was badly warped. The brother had informed the senior mediwitch that the man had no preexisting spinal issues.

Dawlish helped the medical team move the unconscious young man - almost a boy, Tonks thought - to St Mungo’s by portkey - they worried hw would not survive side along apparation, as his blood pressure was disastrously low. As per protocol, Dawlish would keep watch over the patient until a senior auror came to relieve him, or the teenager was declared safe. The Auror Office usually placed its best aurors on watch at St Mungos, when possession or an imperius curse was suspected, because of the tremendous damage that a few rogue patients could do. They’d rather have the juniors run into trouble in the field than have a dangerous man run free through St Mungo’s.

Tonks and Proudfoot set about interviewing the victim’s shaken family. The victim was called Andew Jackson, and as it turned out he and his brother were the only magical members of the family - their parents were both muggles. Tonks felt a rush of sympathy for them - as if the magical world wasn’t frightening enough for a muggle, now their younger son had fallen victim to a seemingly random attack.

Back at the Ministry, Tonks considered the information that she and Proudfoot had obtained - the family was definitely working class, with a small, hilly sheep farm on very poor soil. Both boys had been educated at Hogwarts (Gryffindor) and neither had much aptitude for schoolwork, though the younger one was a bit brighter, with an O NEWT in charms, but he appeared to have got himself in quite a lot of trouble and was nearly expelled in his sixth year. Dawlish returned from St Mungo’s with grim news: the spinal warping strongly suggested prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse. The patient was still unconscious and the healers worried that he may not recover all of his mental faculties. Dawlish instructed Tonks and Proudfoot to bring the family in for more questioning - “it’s always someone the victim knows,” he said.

“Yeah, probably one of his muggle parents _crucio’_ d the shit out of him,” Tonks said later, to Proudfoot.

Proudfoot snorted. “I reckon the brother did it - he’s a dishwasher at the local wizard pub. Doesn’t look like he could cast a _stupefy_ if his life depended on it. He definitely tortured his own brother.”

“Yes,” agreed Tonks. “He was probably trying to get his little brother out of the way so he wouldn’t have to share the family farm. Running sheep is every wizard’s dream.”

“Says here he failed his charms OWL, and scraped a pass in defence against the dark arts,” Proudfoot snorted, looking up from his report. “That means what - _expelliarmus_ is a bit of a challenge for him? He could definitely cast a _crucio_ powerful enough to curl the spine.”

*****break*****

That very evening, while Tonks was trying to make a dent in her ever-growing pile of admin, Remus was arguing with Sirius.

“Oh come on, you’re apparating to the middle of _nowhere_ , and a couple of months ago Dumbledore actually told me to go there to get you!” Sirius roared. “How dare you say ‘it’s too dangerous’.”

“That was a couple of months ago. You heard Tonks and Kingsley - Scrimgeour suspects you’re in Britain. It can only be a matter of time until someone learns that you’re an animagus - in fact, Death Eaters must have contacts in the ministry, and they’ll be doing their best to spread than information,” said Remus flatly.

In the end, Sirius called him a string of expletives and Remus left Grimmauld Place alone, bound for the croft on the stony hill in Scotland. He arrived at about ten pm, and checked the cellar beneath the croft to ensure it was still secure. As a general rule, crofts did not have cellars - but this croft had been renovated by magic, specifically in order to give Remus a place to spend the full moon. Satisfied that the cellar was secure, he spent an uncomfortably fitful night on the too-short bed, which he always lengthened slightly by magic.

The next morning the full moon was a little white wafer, high in the bright blue sky. It was hard to believe such a delicate, far-away little circle could cause him a fever, aching joints and a terrifyingly short temper. He tried to fetch himself a glass of water, but the slippery glass fell out from his sweaty, trembling hand.

He picked the glass up again and hurled it with all his might at the wall. Then he felt disgusted. _Perhaps you’d like to punch dents in some soft plaster next, you hero_ he scolded himself. He repaired the broken glass, then put his wand away in a solid box on a high shelf, not to be retrieved until that evening when he’d go down to the cellar to assume his werewolf form. He was still thirsty, so he stuck his head under the tap. _I’m sure they water farm dogs the same way_ , the voice in his head sneered. It was only ten am on Thursday morning, and already he was ill and awful.

At the full moon, the moon rose at sunset and set at sunrise. Sunset wasn’t until seven fifty three, and he would transform in the cellar shortly afterwards. Since the Hogwarts fiasco, when he had missed a dose of Wolfsbane and nearly attacked Harry, Ron and Hermione, Remus had created a new rule for himself: he had to be in the cellar at least two hours before sunset, even if he’d taken the Wolfsbane potion (just in case he’d missed a dose - and yes, even if he thought he hadn’t, because he obviously could not be trusted to remember to take seven simple doses).

At lunchtime, he ate the cold sausages and steak sandwich that Molly had packed for him - a fed werewolf was a slightly less furious werewolf - but binned the bread, lettuce and onions. The day before and sometimes after the full moon, meat was the only solid food he could stomach. He’d only told that to his parents, Dumbledore, Sirius, James and Peter - the fact that he’d devour barely-cooked meat but vomit up a bite of toast cemented his image as a carnivorous monster. So poor Molly still packed him lunches with vegetables and bread that he’d never eat.

Remus tried to pass the time until cellar o’clock by doing crosswords on the muggle newspapers in his kindling basket next to the fireplace, but too many clues relied on muggle pop culture references that he didn’t get and so he gave up. His hands having stilled, he drank a few big glasses of water. He knew he needed to hydrate, as he’d sweat and scratch and crawl up the walls all night.

At six, he relieved himself, stripped naked, placed his clothes on the bed, retrieved his wand box and headed down to the cool cellar. He knew that he’d claw his clothes to shreds if they were left in the cellar.

In the cellar, he duly cast several barrier charms and then secured his wand in its box, tucked into a special notch created by a missing stone, high up in the wall. He was always vaguely worried he’d somehow unwittingly destroy his wand one full moon and not be able to get out, but Sirius knew where he was and someone would be sent to fetch him if he didn’t return to Grimmauld Place tomorrow. He distractedly hoped that if rescue were required, Sirius would have the sense to send a man - he didn’t really want Hestia, Tonks or Molly finding him in the cellar - naked, bleeding, badly injured, unconscious and potentially soaked in urine.

By seven, the approaching moon was causing the familiar jolts of pain through his bones. He placed his palms on the cellar wall and howled, almost bent double with the shock of pain down his spine. As suddenly as it set in, it was gone again and Remus stood upright, gasping. He was counting the seconds, as the pulses of pain worsened and the intervals between them shrank. Finally, his neck felt like it was tearing, his hands turned to claws and his bones cracked hideously. He collapsed on the floor, half gasping, half snarling.

*****break*****

By Friday, Tonks and Proudfoot had made little progress on the case of the tortured teenager (as Tonks called it) - or the Jackson case (as Dawlish called it). One thing they had established was that Jackson’s attacker was almost certainly not a member of his immediate family. For as long as anyone could remember, they were all muggles. As far as Tonks could see, Andrew’s brother lacked both the means and the motive. He had nothing to gain from torturing or incapacitating his brother and she highly doubted he could’ve done it, even if he had wanted to.

On Friday evening, Tonks regretfully declined the offer of beers at the Leaky Cauldron with Proudfoot and the usual crowd of aurors in their early thirties and younger. She had guard duty with Kingsley, starting at eight. She was pleased to see Dawlish wave at her on his way out - not because she valued the interaction, but because she wanted to be seen to be busy late into the night.

Tonks and Kingsley stationed themselves on Level 9, where the Department of Mysteries was located. The Department of Mysteries had always made Tonks uneasy - its purpose was to investigate thought, love, death and time, and it was staffed by Unspeakables. The nature of their work was shrouded in secrecy, as Unspeakables were not permitted to talk about their work - but they were subject to few other limitations. The Department of Mysteries enjoyed relative autonomy from the dominion of the Ministry of Magic, and Unspeakables were unique in that they were not answerable to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Twice, an Unspeakable came scurrying out of the Department, and Tonks had to hide herself by morphing to be the same colour as the black, tiled wall. As the hours ticked by, she found herself almost dead on her feet. Kingsley said they were watching for someone to try to enter the department by force, and she hoped that adrenaline would thoroughly wake her up and restore her alertness if that happened.

Finally, at five am, Kingsley reminded her that it was the day of Harry’s hearing, and sent her back to Grimmauld Place to have some breakfast and bid Harry good luck.

Barely trusting herself to apparate, Tonks went straight to Grimmauld Place. She crept into the kitchen, assuming no one else would be up at five. The sudden movement of a mirrored cabinet door made her jump and automatically draw her wand.

Remus looked horrendous. His skin was oddly sallow, and the purple shadows under his eyes were deeper and darker than she’d ever seen them.

“What happened?” Tonks asked unthinkingly.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious. I’ve been feeling ill again,” said Remus evasively. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, thanks,” said Tonks. “I’m going home to nap as soon as I see Harry and wish him good luck. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Remus set down the mug he was holding, and said quietly: “the full moon was on Thursday. I’m often a bit shaky for the next couple of days.”

“Oh! Oh I’m sorry, Remus,” said Tonks. “Do you…er…need anything? Shall I get the tea? Do you want to swap a shift?”

Remus shook his head, but smiled kindly. “Tonks, I have it on good authority that you’ve been on guard duty for the past few nights. You must be exhausted - and you have rather fewer lie-in opportunities than I do.”

Sirius entered the kitchen next. Tonks assumed he was also there to wish Harry good luck. He seemed quite preoccupied, and offered little in the way of conversation. He was followed shortly afterwards by Molly Weasley, still in her pyjamas and dressing gown.

“Oh, everyone’s up already!” Molly said, anxiously busying herself making breakfast.

“Guard duty,” offered Tonks by way of explanation.

“Lycanthropy,” said Remus mirroring her tone.

“Oh and speaking of guard duty,” said Tonks. “We’ll have to throw Scrimgeour off the scent somehow.”

Harry entered the kitchen and Molly’s breakfast preparations took on a furious speed. Tonks thought this was probably more for Molly than for Harry, as Harry declined every food offered save toast.

“M-morning, Harry, sleep all right?” Tonks yawned.

Lupin asked her about Scrimgeour, and she explained that the Head of the Auror Office had been asking rather a lot of questions about why Kingsley had been seen in the department of mysteries late at night, and why they hadn’t caught Sirius.

Tonks then gratefully swapped Sunday’s guard duty shift with Arthur Weasley. She was eager to do as much work as possible and appear competent, but she also knew that sleep deprivation knocked her performance.

The conversation turned to Harry’s hearing - Tonks knew the presiding witch, Amelia Bones, and decided to offer some reassurance.

“Amelia Bones is okay, Harry,” said Tonks. “She’s fair, she’ll hear you out.”

“Don’t lose your temper,” said Sirius, in a stunning display of do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do.

“The law’s on your side,” said Lupin, and Tonks fondly thought that he was ever the know-all. She caught his eye and smiled.

*****break*****

The following Friday, an event at Grimmauld Place forced Tonks to decline drinks with Proudfoot and the others for the third time. He was definitely getting suspicious. It was the last day of the school holidays, and Molly Weasley was throwing a send-off party for the kids. She wasn’t _required_ to attend, but she felt it would be a bad lookout if she declined - and she was quite happy to spend time with Remus and Sirius, and to farewell Harry, Hermione, Ginny and the twins.

She arrived early, but found Remus, Hestia, Kingsley and Sirius already in the kitchen and chatting amiably. She joined them, and accepted the beer that Sirius offered.

“Have you two managed to deal with Scrimgeour?” Remus asked Tonks and Kingsley.

“What’s wrong with Scrimgeour?” Sirius asked darkly.

“Oh nothing, he’s just concerned by our lack of progress with you,” said Tonks, keen to include him and cheer him up. This was, as it turned out, a mistake.

“It’s Kingsley’s own fault for not letting me take a trip to the continent,” said Sirius. “I know Bill went all the way to Tibet and I’m _grateful_ and all, but there need to be more sightings of me closer to home!”

“Sirius-” began Kingsley.

“Please, I’m locked up here with nothing to do; it’s like being on bloody house arrest, and there’s plainly something that I could be doing,” Sirius huffed.

Tonks caught Remus’s eye and he winced comically. She smiled.

“And how would the Order manage to break you out of Azkaban, if we’re already struggling to lay a false trail around Eurasia?” Kingsley asked mildly.

Fortunately, Sirius was saved from answering by the arrival of Molly Weasley, carrying various packages from Diagon Alley, including a long, thin one that looked like a broomstick.

Harry appeared, looking as though he was trying not to seem crestfallen - _poor kid_ thought Tonks, _the only one not a prefect, and he knows everyone had such high expectations._

Mad Eye stamped in next, and Molly asked him to use his magical eye in order to confirm that a rattling creature somewhere in the depths of the house was in fact a boggart. It must have been, because Tonks heard no more about it.

“Prefect, eh?” Moody growled at Ron. “Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbldore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes, or he wouldn’t have appointed you.”

Tonks was fairly sure that Mad Eye was exaggerating his paranoid personality for comic effect, or perhaps to make Harry feel better.

“The ‘Congratulations Ron and Hermione!’ banner is a bit on the nose,” Tonks whispered to Remus.

“Harry is the famous one - he’s not conceited, but it’s only fair that Ron and Hermione have their moment in the sun,” murmured Remus.

She reflected that this was true, downed her beer and went to find two more. She decided that she would dearly like to get Remus at least slightly tipsy, and see the man laugh properly. Mr Weasley was proposing a toast when she returned, and she pressed the beer into Remus’s hand - he raised an eyebrow, but took it.

In the queue for the buffet, Tonks found herself directly behind Harry.

“I was never a prefect myself,” said Tonks to Harry. “My Head of House said that I lacked certain necessary qualities.”

“Like what?” Ginny asked, appearing from nowhere.

“Like the ability to behave myself,” said Tonks, catching Remus’s eye and knowing that he was thinking of her Snape impersonation.

Tonks noticed that Ginny smiled openly at this, but Hermione did not. Many people would interpret Hermione’s reaction as disapproving and a bit pompous for a fifteen year old - but Tonks didn’t. She realised that Hermione was intellectually very confident, and socially slightly shy. Hermione didn’t know how to respond to the information that unlike her, Tonks hadn’t been made a prefect, because she misbehaved. Hermione probably worried that if she smiled she’d appear to be mocking Tonks, which was not her intent and would also be seen as inappropriate behaviour from a teenager. Tonks grinned at both girls and took another swig of beer. Hermione, obviously relieved that her expression hadn’t been misinterpreted, took a hearty bite of baked potato and promptly coughed.

“What about you, Sirius?” Ginny asked, whacking the coughing Hermione on the back. Tonks approved - most people delicately patted a coughing person on the back, which was good etiquette but otherwise pointless. A good deal more force was required to actually dislodge an obstruction.

Sirius actually laughed - though whether at the question or the slap on Hermione’s back, Tonks wasn’t sure.

“No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge,” said Sirius.

Tonks noticed Remus’s embarrassment - this was exactly why Hermione hadn’t reacted to discovering that Tonks was a prefect. It was possible to insult someone by pointing out that you became a prefect and they didn’t - and also by doing the reverse.

Remus muttered something about how he was supposed to keep his friends in line, but failed. Ordinarily, Tonks would have thought nothing of it. The way he was looking at his feet made her think it was an important disclosure.

“. . . naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two Ninety’s only naught to sixty and that’s with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?” Ron’s voice carried over the party, and Tonks found herself slightly annoyed by the boy.

She realised that she could be caught saying exactly the same thing, and her annoyance was due to her earlier interactions with Ron (which had not been terribly positive), rather than anything he’d said tonight. Still, she doubted what difference a fast broom could make to any facet of Ron’s life - it felt like an unnecessary use of the Weasley parents’ money. Then she shook herself - she’d essentially made them retire their owl, and though she’d offered Tango’s services, no Weasley had taken her up on that. 

Remus offered to fetch them both a glass of wine, and Tonks gratefully accepted. She looked around the room, and decided to go for some more baked potatoes.

“Does anyone know why Dumbledore didn’t make Potter a prefect?” Kingsley asked.

At that moment, Remus returned with wine and Tonks juggled her glass with her plate for a second, before regretfully setting the glass down on the kitchen bench.

“He’ll have had his reasons,” said Remus quickly, sipping his wine. If he thought this would quell discussion, he was wrong.

“But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,” said Kingsley, “‘specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days. As it stands, it looks as though Dumbledore finds Potter unreliable.”

Tonks glimpsed Harry out of the corner of her eye - he was pretending not to listen. Immediately, she moved off, trying to break up the conversation.

“Hello Ron - got a new broom?” Tonks asked hurriedly, deciding that being bored witless about Ron’s Cleansweep was a small price to pay for distracting Harry from Kingsley’s words.

Ron began to bore her with the details of his broom - it turned out he’d wanted it to try out for the position of Keeper, on the Gryffindor Quidditch team at school. However, he was keeping that secret from his brothers.

Remus came over and rescued Tonks from Ron’s patter about his broom. She found brooms interesting, but she did not find school-level keepers fussing about the quality of their mount remotely interesting.

“How’s work - have you had to deal with any obvious cases of Death Eater activity?” Remus asked Tonks in a low voice.

“We’ve got a young lad who appears to have been tortured with a nasty cruciatus curse. But we have no idea who or why - he’s a farmer’s boy and he left school in 6th year,” said Tonks.

“The cruciatus curse is quite rare,” said Remus.

“Yeah it’s _almost as though_ it was probably someone’s initiation or something,” whispered Tonks, flicking her finger against his forearm as she gesticulated with sarcastic amusement.

“Much harder to explain if you have to keep denying that Voldemort has returned, then?” Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Exactly,” said Tonks. “Only, that kind of information can’t come from me. I think I’ve talked Proudfoot - that’s my closest colleague - around, though. He thinks it’s ridiculous to keep investigating the victim’s brother.”

Remus had a strange expression of comprehension on his face, which Tonks did not really understand.

Mad Eye was regaling Harry with pictures of deceased Order members, and Tonks decided that was her cue to leave. She bid everyone goodbye, gave Remus a quick, hard hug, and headed toward the door.

Bill caught her on the way out.

“Hey Tonks, a word!” Bill said.

She smiled at him. “Wotcher Bill - what do you want to talk about?”

“Tonks, I have some news to break to you,” said Bill.

Tonks felt very sure she knew what was coming. She smiled at Bill, hoping she looked friendly and unconcerned.

“That sounds ominous,” said Tonks - her tone was calculated to be mildly cheerful, but not excessively so. She didn’t want to sound like she was only pretending not to care.

“I…er…well, I have a girlfriend,” said Bill.

“OK. Isn’t that good?” Tonks asked lightly.

“Well, yes of course, but-” began Bill.

“You _break_ bad news,” said Tonks. “This doesn’t sound like news that needs to be _broken_.”

“Well, I just thought - you’re er…my colleague. You should know,” said Bill.

“Alright, I understand,” said Tonks. “I’ll make sure not to tell any embarrassing stories when you bring her round.”

She hoped Bill caught her double meaning, and that he was just a little bit worried.

*****break*****

“Mrs Weasley! Just get out of here!” Harry cried.

Remus was heading upstairs when he heard Harry’s yell, and hurried in its direction. Sirius must have been nearby, because heavy footfalls on the stairs alerted Remus to Sirius thundering after him.

Remus rounded the corner and saw Harry standing upright, urging Molly Weasley to leave the room. In front of them both lay Harry, stone dead. For less than a quarter of a second, Rems felt the bottom drop out of his chest. His skin flashed hot and cold with adrenaline, even before he recalled Molly and Mad Eye’s earlier about boggarts, and realised this was exactly what he was looking at.

He darted in front of Molly, and dead harry transformed into the full moon, which he dispelled. But then Molly started crying, and he felt a rush of sympathy for her. Not many people’s boggarts were others, dead.

Remus walked over to the crying Molly Weasley and patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. So here it was: the war was real to everyone else, too. Molly was crying more loudly, protesting that she and most of her family were in the Order and she knew someone would die. Sirius was awkwardly pretending not to notice her tears.

“Molly, that’s enough,” sad Remus, as she sobbed on his collar. “This isn’t like last time, the Order is better prepared. We’ve got a head start, we know what Voldemort’s up to-”

Molly gasped at Voldemort’s name, and Remus felt a flash of irritation - as much with the fear in him that her own gasp elicited, as with her superstitiousness.

“Don’t worry about Percy,” said Sirius abruptly. “He’ll come round. It’s a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry’s going to be begging us to forgive them. And I’m not sure I’ll be accepting their apology.”

Molly was muttering something about Ron and Ginny being orphaned and helpless if she, Arthur and all their older children died. Remus reassured her that the Order would most definitely care for the younger Weasleys if that happened.

After they’d settled Molly and Harry, Sirius and Remus went upstairs to the former’s bedroom, with a bottle of firewhiskey. Remus knew that Sirius was feeling glum about the kids all going back to school and some of the Weasleys decamping to their home. Truth be told, after the evening's drinks party thoroughly rubbed his nose in the fact that just about every Order member except he, Sirius and Snape had an active love life, so was Remus. The fact of Remus's monk-like isolation had been violently driven home by the contrast between Molly’s boggart - the membersof her big, loving family all dead - and his own lonely full moon boggart.

The two men walked into Sirius’s room and he cracked open the firewhiskey, swigging out of the bottle and handing it to Remus.

“This is why people think we’re secretly a couple, Moony,” said Sirius, sounding amused.

“Oh, not again,” chuckled Remus. “People still think that?”

“I saw Tonks throwing us a couple of _those looks_ ,” Sirius replied, also amused. “Why is everyone so desperate for me to be gay? They always have been, even at Hogwarts. ‘It’s ok Sirius, your secret is safe with me Sirius’, ‘we love you for who you _really_ are, Sirius,’ - fuck’s sake, I don’t even like cock.”

“Oh _that’s_ why she was being so nice to me!” Remus exclaimed, frowning.He had only really paid attention to the first part of Sirius’s speech.

“What do you mean, ‘so nice’ to you?” Sirius asked.

“When I admitted I was a werewolf and that I had kept it secret from her, she was awfully good about it. And tonight, she seemed to be trying to cheer me up,” said Remus.

“In that case I think we need to make sure she knows you’re interested in women - and a free agent,” Sirius smirked.

“Please don’t start that again,” said Remus.

“What, exactly?” Sirius taunted.

“Trying to set me up,” replied Remus.

“Don’t worry, Moony. I don’t want some horny old werewolf pawing at my long-lost little cousin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: First, I expect this will be longest chapter in the whole story. I plan to reduce each chapter to around 4,000 words in future - however, I wanted the entirety of this segment (which is discussed in the books) in one instalment. Second, some dialogue snippets are directly pulled from the “order of the phoenix” text. Thirdly, school’s back in for autumn, which means that in future Tonks will spend some more time at Grimmauld Place.


End file.
